How about that?
I come from a black cat
across your path,
a rusty horseshoe
nailed above the door,
salt over your shoulder.
I'm older than you,
Friday the 13th,
your birthday wish.
I come from a broken mirror
and a four-leaf clover,
cross my heart.
I'm over the moon about it.
I walked under a ladder.
What's the matter?
I come from a union of two
who stepped on cracks in sidewalks,
they were dreaming of fish
and someone was pregnant
No comments:
Post a Comment