Inspiration point (IP)
This week I'd like you to take the title of a song or film and make it into something else - poetry or prose. Good luck!
on my apron, hung, one bow missing. glass bowl cradling three apples. my scarf and his crumpled on the table empty box of green jasmine tea, his. tete-a-tetes in too small a pot, mine.
It finally hit me that I would never see him again when I took a scoop of dirt and put it onto his casket. As I did so, I started to cry. It was the...
I behold the blank page eying me From its right angled corners Tunnelling my vision into its Bare expressionlessness Perfect lines are on its surface Begging to be intruded by