all the little melodies
painted on the wall:
a million vibrant shades
of exquisite melancholy,
that are mixed with
the clumsy perfection
of everyday happiness,
and patterned with
the careful bowstrings
of all the little lives
(that are played gently
with practiced hands).
YOU ARE READING
the mind's recesses
Poetrywords that fell out of inky fingers, and stained the paper that lay on wooden tables.
