Creases line their lears
across lamp-lit halls.
Amongst my flickering fears
its stony face falls.
It's crevices crossed
and my caution cast.
They bare their moulded teeth, mossed,
at my own, aghast.
Slipping to their soles
in pools filled with oil,
I find my heart full of holes,
pockets filed with soil.
Getting to my knees
it dowses my graze.
Gasoline caught in the breeze
burning out my daze.
No comments:
Post a Comment