The air is
grey whipped
and sweetearthelectric
I hope it storms
curled in front of the window
like a comma
slurping Korean noodles
The rain will slap the glass
pissed off lover
and grumbly thunder bass
will percussion
some nameless boy band
crooning from my phone speakers
Molecular frenzy
and I am the scientist
with steamed white rice
and lightning eyes
No comments:
Post a Comment