May 22, 2013


Hungry tongues
hide in my shoes
awaiting beneath my bed;
they know when
I'll awaken, and
when they will be fed.
They've swallowed
all my secrets,
know I travel alone.
Together they
talk it over, 
so familiar 
with my old song;
they know
just how far
I'm going,
and how far
I've gone.