On a cool, rainy May evening on the verge of warmer weather

I am trying to thread the eye of the needle

that sews humblebrag stitches

onto an embroidered pillow slip

that reads, on one side, look at me,

and on the other, oh it’s nothing really,

and when you wake up, you can turn it over

so you still feel the cool fabric

on your cheek, and think of me.

Advertisements

Published by

Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s