learning to feel again |
| In a black velvet box, the fragile glass heart sleeps; its face shrouded in darkness. You are there, somehow, guided by fate. Treasure hunter seeking a prize, gently opening the lid... By caressing the cold surface, it awakens to your touch. You hold it close, warming it with love. --------------- This poem won an honorable mention in July 2004
http://www.writing.com/main/forums/action/view/message_id/908758 |