This is rewrite The musician. He looked at his hands. His thoughts were like curls. They had to be pulled and straightened over and over and then as each became taunt there was a snap and all changed. Bunched and knotted the energy fused into changing images The frightening Part was reality It... Sign in to see full entry.
C.C.:
By C_C_T - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry
About this Blog
Searching for it.
Recent Entries
Blogs
Previous: (No subject) - New Entries - Next: (No subject)