I'm not very good at... interpreting stuff.
My gut feelings and uh, "intuition" fail me more these days.
I have no sense of future.
Slight inclinations, meager foretelling.
It's reflected in my inability to decipher this poem!
She fell apart on the Floor.
She fell apart on the floor.
Her heart became unknown.
Her head a bunch of flowers in a vase.
her hands the windows.
Her eyes the floor.
The wind rattled the windows with loneliness of distance.
Then her heart became the candle at dinner.
And her hands became the flowers.
Her head was on the plate.
Her feet were the feet of chairs.
And her eyes were the pockets of those who sat down to eat.
By dessert the windows had broken and the wind had sat down at the table.
The candle flame was wavering.
Her hands became the seats, fingers closing on the visitors
Turning out their pockets.
Her eyes became as large as the laughter of the wind.
Filling the whole room.
The tree came true for the table
And the wind came true for the woman.
And her head was a vase.
And her heart was a flame in a dark room
Even my brother is better at it than I am
I have no clue at all! O_o
The assignment was given by S.
Darn he's just good with words that way.