Overripe
ariella | 01 May, 2008 02:03
This is where you leave me: tinted sunlight that comes filtered through window bars, dust on floors, overripe fruit, other languages yelled across aisles. I am three feet tall and alone.
I look down diagonally at the sun that comes down diagonally at floor parts, foot parts, me parts. The smell of brown bananas lines the memory.





