In the tower-room you
could not see your hands.
I could see them for you.
They were white.
They were not
located by your wrists.
They were not old.
Things were starting to
come open for me.
You asked if I could see
the white walls.
I could.
In the book,
the king who banned
boats from his coasts
regretted it.
No one could get in.
The people mutinied,
on both sides.
3 comments:
A very unique approach, contingent upon the premise that I'm reading this correctly, yet nonetheless a good write and good read.
Helm.
the sudden knowledge, too late almost (as if)
excellent
thanks both
--D
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