ode
As I find myself,
I don’t find you.
You are now
disapated into a
swiss holed memory.
The ash that paints
the day to dusk.
Blanketing
the remorse of
airplanes and I love yous.
I take the Clementine route of
impulse.
The chosen vacancy;
I forget you.
-b
❧
Lover, lifer, writer. Journalism student, and Vancouver freelancer. This is my personal blog with a lot of my own poetry and intimate entries. I am continuously inspired by successful, talented and innovative women, and I try to reflect that as much as possible. I hope you enjoy.
"Cento" Copyright © Andrew Brinker 2011.
