Apr 2009

UnnamedEvery little piece of dust

Every little piece of dust
The texture of the wooden floor
Movements causing but a gust
The creaking of a single door

A touch exploding in her mind
Communicating every inch
A soft caress makes almost blind
Whispers causing her to flinch

A cut would be enough to faint
Even with a single drop
To some a curse, for some a taint
But it keeps her at the top

All she wants is peace inside
And not feel the need to hide