Skip to main content Help Control Panel

Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Dregs & Other Unreadables

remembering an ex-girlfriend


at just under forty degrees fahrenheit
my breath forms a cloud
and I imagine that I could grab it
and it would record my words
with all the life of my voice
and soul in them.

at eighty degrees below zero fahrenheit
my lips burn
and when I spit
it snaps in the air
it is too cold for words

that's when I think of you.
Share
* Invite participants
* Share at Facebook
* Share at Twitter
* Share at LinkedIn
* Reference this page
Monitor
Recent files
Member Pages »
See also