Splash the walls with the colors of yesterday--
But love the color of tomorrow.


My name was yesterday.
They called me the past, but
I was the future. Or maybe I was                     but never going anywhere. Cling
Somewhere in between the two                       On, I am a memory, a        :
Like the horizon, that thin blue string              Possibility too.                 :
Of bravado, that seems so far yet so tiny.         I'll never leave you.         :
You left me, but I never let your hand go,            :
Those rose-blush fingertips clinging to empty    p              and   around :
Shells of time, climbing at an amble, slowly       u


Kirthi said...

Beautifully descriptive, I love it! I'm curious though, why the strange punctuation?

Inkgirl said...

Thank you.

I decided to experiment with the shape of the poem this time around, instead of just the words.

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)