Brooklyn Baby

Instead of waking up
I’ll just let the sun drape over me
Stretching across this room
From morning into afternoon
Squirming under the light that
Fills these corners, the peeling
Paint revealing layers of history
Little girl sneezes and tears that
Escape these plasticine bubbles
That is not my hair
These are not my things
My refection is there moving
Throughout this room with me
Wondering at the thought of
Hide and seek with my self

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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