|
By Stephen Date: 2002 Sep 10 Comment on this Work [[2002.09.10.04.00.28304]] |
|
I pull apart the ticking tacks one by one the pictures fall from my wall they glisten gold they pinch the senses as they fold The lovely faces floating in space my nervous nails are too weak my trembled hands are too meek dotted white to their background The lovely places soaring how times fly, fly around |