I am lying, eyes closed
shutting off the visual
sensing only my skin
as the cool air rushes in through the open window
chilling my shoulder as it passes over
sliding across my chest
it tickles as it brushes past the hair on my flattened stomach
and turns into a whisper as it brushes against my legs and then falls like a waterfall
to the floor, where my feet should be.
Time to get up!
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4 comments:
excuse me? your flattened stomach? You're cute!
If only getting up was that beautiful a moment!
so someone thinks I am round in the stomach - hahahahaha
Good poem David!! Whatever your stomach configuration may be.
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