It doesn't count-
The retraction,
The eating
Of your ill remark-
For anything.
You said it.
It's there
In the atmosphere
As dust granules
In the afternoon sun.
This counts for something-
The raging silence
In how you cut your eyes
To the lying side
When I ask you
About anything-
Least of all me.
6.01.2012
Least of All Me
Lofty City Low is my poetry blog. I utilize it mostly for stream of consciousness writing exercises. The rawness of these writings supplies me with starting points for my creative works. Occasionally, I will post a fully-revised piece, looking for feedback. I hope you enjoy and connect with something I've put here. Feel free to comment. Thank you.
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