
Typewriter Series #2588 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for Tired Eyes:
Time measured
in the growing of hair,
on my face, the top of my head,
in the healing I see in you.
I know little else of hours,
weeks and days confuse me,
the avalanche of minutes
I try to dig myself out of.
Strange to be suspended
between a was and a will,
the gravity-less float
between solid walls.
With tender fingers,
trim the extra
that has found its way
atop me.
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
Published on April 28, 2019 18:03