dangled from those tangled branches of
sweet confusion, laugh captured at a
right angle, because the left kind were out of stock.
i see your image beneath that thicket of
ideas, just a marble contour or a statue.
i can't see you.
the blood floods your hands as you grip icy,
slippery hope with six fingers and just a little rainbow
of desperation. let go. maybe you will discover
the wings inside your chest, that undying flutter of hope.
maybe i'll take a step forward tonight, cross the
blurred threshold that only i can feel scraping my
heels. i wish today would last
forever, because my legs are tired from that
thousand-mile run i took, the one that
still isn't over.
maybe i'll crane my neck towards the sky, watch the
stars swirl in fluffy circles of whipped cream, drink in
the sight, even if that image of you next to me, sipping
the peppermint curls in your hot chocolate
won't say goodbye.
maybe i'll resist the hiss in my
ear, the one that tells me to wipe away your
pepper-freckles and your salt tears. because i can't
go back.
just reminisce upon it and dream of grazing
golden moments with my fingertips again.
i hear the viscous seconds pass slowly.
maybe there is time left; maybe i can savor
that last dream before we sift these grains of salt-
(sugar too, but i'm still empty and hollow like
a shell that isn't on the shore-
I can't hear the rush of the waves anymore.)
Sift these memories through our interlaced fingers.
(sugar too, but i'm still empty and hollow like
a shell that isn't on the shore-
I can't hear the rush of the waves anymore.)
Sift these memories through our interlaced fingers.
4 comments:
Yay! It works!!! :)
:) It does.
This a wonderful :)
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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.)