Swallowtale -

Your little corner and

The dust spider is company.

Weaving and moving and such

The falling movements.

Over and over,

Softly spoken

Meditative daydream.

Yes you spoke of tomorrow

And shaking off the cobwebs.

But I swear they don’t exist.

You abide by the restrictions

With words no more than their definitions.

I wish I could help you,

But I know you would not survive.