Dawn
The mornings are soft
and sensitive,
before I've had a chance
to fold myself over
in the layers
of the day
No swaddling clothes
to muffle my cries --
the heart hurts
close to the surface,
the sunrise bleeds.
Christie Flemming
The mornings are soft
and sensitive,
before I've had a chance
to fold myself over
in the layers
of the day
No swaddling clothes
to muffle my cries --
the heart hurts
close to the surface,
the sunrise bleeds.
Christie Flemming