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Literature Text
The fruit still slumbers in the garden
My eyes were torn open by the light
Twinkling grassy dust slumps in the air just beyond my eyelashes.
A story told me once that dust is human skin.
So perhaps now, a French debutante mingles with my curtains
While an Italian man rests idly in my best patterned teacup.
The strawberries sleep on.
My eyes were torn open by the light
Twinkling grassy dust slumps in the air just beyond my eyelashes.
A story told me once that dust is human skin.
So perhaps now, a French debutante mingles with my curtains
While an Italian man rests idly in my best patterned teacup.
The strawberries sleep on.
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Comments3
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Wow. This is really great! What an intriguing mixture of ideas and imagery. I love the line twinkling grassy dust slumps in the air just beyond my eyelashes - what a fantastic sentence!