Poems from Siena Costanzo
My brain is always three steps ahead of my fingers
and my soul is three steps ahead of my brain
I find my fingers bleeding
from the...
Quickly I flew across the river
the grab the arrow
shot from my quiver
I wished my hide were like this stone
wich stopped the arrow...
people have this habit of being human
But I must digress
because the greates acts i've ever seen
simply havn't happened yet
A tree once...
And so she shined, wiht limbs of light
dancing down court yards
with no end in sight
she steps, tip top toes
with five glimmering bright
a...
I am a gallery of broken art
and I long to posses all my broken parts
For my eyes are only softer ink,
and words stain my cheeks with...