Saturday, May 4, 2013

Here

The house is silent
The young voices are asleep.
My thoughts are gathered on top of the table 
I know how I got here but somehow the road disappeared
Uncertainty  makes knives of my fingers as I touch my face

Not a single sound
The dog sleeps 
The sun is rising


No comments:

How do you pronounce your name?

  When my dad named me, in a small hospital room in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, he probably never thought that one day I would leave ...