my love is a wild orchid leaking at the mouth at dawn
as hands find ways to place themselves in invisible places
burning beneath dreary midnight skies
terror and rushing silent hearts, something good
I have pranced upon in life meadows
and I find this lingering between those two places
perfection speaks silently
perfection whispers violently
I find worlds to live in
where our windows are portals to the spiritual
and open doors bring in tender wind
violet voices drip beneath the skin
in rich shades of heart fall
leaving imprints of impersonation and
reconstruction on my wall
blinding the unforgiving love of routine
and blue curtains that were hung up last winter
with a smile brushed upon a sad face
living in forests of wild woods and pubescent trees
mock the artificial mind of this city
learn how to be
I am no casting eminence glancing down
breath taking seas, locked in the agony of happiness
and criminal hearts, kissed by a kisser
holding hands tediously as 3 hearts melt into one
like the rain coming down from your roof
and the joy of falling asleep to the sound
of water being absorbed into the ground
recycled, there is something so comforting about it
flower printed walls, and hallmark cards lay around
the smell of coffee stenches the carpet
there is something glorifying about broken bottles in the corner of the bar
perhaps a long night of silent communication
and unbearable looks of quiet knife like stares
piercing-exciting
loving
Apr 20, 2011
Apr 20, 2011 at 6:45 PM UTC
my love is a wild orchid leaking at the mouth at dawn
as hands find ways to place themselves in invisible places
burning beneath dreary midnight skies
terror and rushing silent hearts, something good
I have pranced upon in life meadows
and I find this lingering between those two places
perfection speaks silently
perfection whispers violently
I find worlds to live in
where our windows are portals to the spiritual
and open doors bring in tender wind
violet voices drip beneath the skin
in rich shades of heart fall
leaving imprints of impersonation and
reconstruction on my wall
blinding the unforgiving love of routine
and blue curtains that were hung up last winter
with a smile brushed upon a sad face
living in forests of wild woods and pubescent trees
mock the artificial mind of this city
learn how to be
I am no casting eminence glancing down
breath taking seas, locked in the agony of happiness
and criminal hearts, kissed by a kisser
holding hands tediously as 3 hearts melt into one
like the rain coming down from your roof
and the joy of falling asleep to the sound
of water being absorbed into the ground
recycled, there is something so comforting about it
flower printed walls, and hallmark cards lay around
the smell of coffee stenches the carpet
there is something glorifying about broken bottles in the corner of the bar
perhaps a long night of silent communication
and unbearable looks of quiet knife like stares
piercing-exciting
loving
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