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in this empty chair, i slip
by Peter Hsuin this empty chair, i slip
beneath the skin of the evening
to stumble blindly through time
and rouse dying memories
with the intoxicated cadence of my heels,
a drunken tattoo piercing the impermanent air,
marring the dark curve of the moon
(the luminous line of your back
is a cursive whisper
scrawled across the face of the night) 06/12/2012 Author's Note: i was here, i think.
Posted on 06/12/2012
Copyright © 2025 Peter Hsu
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