Jul 2016
you say goodbye with hollow hands and uncertain glances. your vocal chords will barely press together.
2. you sit in your car listening to their fingerprints plant into the grooves of your neck.
3. the world seems to pass by with the same kind of whirl that is found inside of a conch shell.
4. now you are working with gravity, planting yourself flat into the ground.
5. some sense more than sound has filled your head with phrases streaming together.
donttellhim.thewaythesunreflects.ibarelyrememberthattime.inevertoldmybestfriend.whenyouleft.hishairgrewlongerthanmine.letsfindsomethingrecklesstonight.shewassoscaredofthechurchsteeple.onetimeontheroof.
6. numbers progress through your chest as you swallow the clock.
7. you recall all of the formulated fists around the edges of wooden tables and the sweat on pints of beer.
8. the sun came up with few conclusions. your floral head rests on bedspreads with pints of honey buzzing in your chest.
9. you extract his name from your breath. your body is not fine but you know it will reconnect.
2. you sit in your car listening to their fingerprints plant into the grooves of your neck.
3. the world seems to pass by with the same kind of whirl that is found inside of a conch shell.
4. now you are working with gravity, planting yourself flat into the ground.
5. some sense more than sound has filled your head with phrases streaming together.
donttellhim.thewaythesunreflects.ibarelyrememberthattime.inevertoldmybestfriend.whenyouleft.hishairgrewlongerthanmine.letsfindsomethingrecklesstonight.shewassoscaredofthechurchsteeple.onetimeontheroof.
6. numbers progress through your chest as you swallow the clock.
7. you recall all of the formulated fists around the edges of wooden tables and the sweat on pints of beer.
8. the sun came up with few conclusions. your floral head rests on bedspreads with pints of honey buzzing in your chest.
9. you extract his name from your breath. your body is not fine but you know it will reconnect.
