mánudagur, júlí 13, 2009


They bear them out of their sleeping places and lay them down in cradles. They lie on their backs with the skin against carefully arranged gray foam. We wake them gently, open them, peer down into their faces and try to read their expressions. Sleepy and generous, they let us turn their pages without complaint.

2 ummæli:

Rouchswalwe sagði...

{yaaawn} ... softly brushed from slumber by familiar fingertips. Is it summer then?

tristan sagði...


well done

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