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sunflowerAlys
02-06-2005, 09:10 PM
From one, to one, to one, to one

On the out-step of her sanity

She was sitting, composed, yet messy

The clothes on the line were drying,

So individually, she had noticed

Their fading birthly byes, years old

Gave it all to the wind

So meaningfully, though there was nothing to be actually

Celebrating, on this tired today.

She’d ran out of enough washing powder

Before putting the clothes, intertwining in fury

Into the washing machine, but that was before-

She’d have to get some more

Her hair wrote it in the wind-

She was getting all thinner.

It was all the washing

Nothing to do with the glossy magazines

That proudly guarded the shops

Abreast with so many words

She didn’t have enough much money

To take some home for herself anyway

And she thought about who did

Using every one of her eyelashes.

It was fairly warm within the brick block

But she enjoyed it better on the brink

Side by side with the pebble dash

The long orange glow of the warm

Made her feel quite static

So she didn’t like being so static

And she was deprived, deprived now

Of the right to smoke the comforting menthol

Of her fresher days

Into the in deeps of her systems

Dusty smoke being the words of her world

Of prior indignance

The clouds were moving slower

Than her own pegged washing

She was glad to see

Silently

Firebelle
02-07-2005, 01:50 AM
Bits of this I loved. I think I remember reading some of your work a while back, and liking it very much...if I remember rightly, that is. Thank you for this X

Smiling_Rose
02-09-2005, 08:18 PM
beautiful. i've always thought there was something more to washing lines..:p

fulmah
02-10-2005, 04:10 PM
This was quite impressive! I really love how those first few lines open it and the rest just flows out so calmly, almost methodical. Wonderful stuff!