Hunger

I've  not been hungry  for days. I've not felt

the  thirsty  words  connive in  the

mind. My wits been dried by

the sands of boredom

 funneling   down

the hour glass invoking

its own shape.The quill of creation

ceases to be. The night flame singes the

ropes  but  not enough to unwind their  threading.

Reviews

[Jay]

I don't think I can put this into words... this is really good... I like this a lot.

[I Am Svetlana]

I find it interesting how this is written...each image after another. First, the image and feeling of not being hungry, next the image of words floating in a glass of water. The hourglass, the quil, the thought and possible sight of new words...then the night flame, the rope and a spindle of thread...wonderful.