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
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