
my broken wing surfaced the sun
and I’ve been on the run
since my memory’s last breath
it has a grip on me
the hand prints I can see
of
my
waiting
death
#49
June 18 2011
1:49am
my broken wing surfaced the sun
and I’ve been on the run
since my memory’s last breath
it has a grip on me
the hand prints I can see
of
my
waiting
death
#49
June 18 2011
1:49am
©That Poetry Book 2023 by Ze Lynxy Rose; Lauren Clark