I Am The Mouse
When the night sinks in scaled revolt and meteors have hung themselves to scatter light on both our faults, your yellow walls, your bracket shelves, my hunger and my loneliness, my skull, its rain-thin tenderness; I am the mouse and I have come for my crumbs as I always do; back to you from the drainpipe and the rooftile waltz, the plastering, the wooden grooves behind the cupboard, then the […]
Melancholy Hyperbole 