If I`d fit in the windowsill I`d plant myself in your direction, I would =
use the sun`s energy to make this place destination. How dare I hate =
this space I occupy, I`m left to my devices, turning to light I`m =
waiting for the cue, to beckon to the shoot, and break the crust upon =
the soil. Lack of light the iris expands, my eyes abosorb a power coming =
from behind my dim room, in my den amber and damp, as if lit by faith =
alone, I`ve been more faithful than you know.
Submitted by: Mel
