Original – klick at the link (a poem I whrote earlier today)

As the sun hits an icicle

sparkling, concidering, emotional

perspective, though the chaos of color – refecting…

tones – at a lonely road, though

the tunnel – aching sound, behind perception

buildings swirls thorugh soul, silent existance

membrane of the city – around trash and metal

though plastic, stubs, chalks, spray cans

when breath takes place