All photos and content © Tanya Anguita.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010


The whispering quiet
greets me like an old dog
chewing on new shoes.

It worries my blue leather heart
with pointed teeth.
Leaves bite marks on my soul.

There is silence in the darkness
A raging howl at dawn;
Welts on my spirit
Where your comehitherSTOP!
has rubbed me raw.

I can't fence this empty ache
that eats me alive
at the
witching hour,
without the key you
dangle before me,
but won't let me touch.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.