Is there meaning here? I stare into space oblivious to all but my own numbness, hoping for a call - a beckoning voice to draw me back from the edge of my self-imposed exile. Drop the feathery gauze from these old, battered lenses and push me if necessary out of the warm niche carved long ago in this mount of regret.
modern poetry
Poetry – Playing Dirty
Where I come from
blood and names mean nothing
and sworn oaths even less.
But prized most of all
is that old art
of playing dirty -
so dirty
no one else
can even see the game.
- marandarussell.com
Maranda Russell 