| JULES |
| Jules was like a pipe half open
Hitting a high note and not making it through She had raggedy long hair You'd think her mother thrived from limestone And I remember her skin The skiddish glimmer As it cast off the fountain behind her eyes Her lip was cut I wonder why, Did she try to speak her mind? Cut off and alone It's like a cymbal never ceasing The rash loud clanging A background---a feeling an emotion Her silohette, A thousand words Never spoken november 26th 2003 |