peace of mind

My crushed cotton memories
are cloudier than spilt milk
with cereal puffs
snoozing on the floor
and
all of my transgressions
are speaking louder than before
the door is shouting merrily
the kitchen sink seems blythe
the little gecko sitting there
well, I think that he just smiled
The silk satin of your smooth pink tongue
leapt up and bit me on the bum
and everywhere I traipse and travel
lands me in a pile of gravel
lots of nothing and despair
there’s ample of it in the air
and if I’m lost and I turn blind
it might just give me
peace of mind

peace of mind

© Karin Taylor

Joined February 2008

Artwork Comments

  • Mui-Ling Teh
  • © Karin Taylor
  • Linda Callaghan
  • © Karin Taylor
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