Less frequently, I can't unscrew the lid of a jar, But I can pull anchors with my mind, I can lift a tank with my kindness,
By Claire McCabe3 years ago in Poets
Snail like my home glides easy on my back, A battered high-lighter and lipstick stained pack, Of tissues, lego cars, receipts, lip gloss and snacks,
Candlelit shadows waver softly, to the rhythm of monochrome, Chromatic grey scales play flat and sharp, all starkly juxtaposed,