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There are power lines buried in your wrists, barbed wire fantasies dying to escape You and I, we were fingerprints, we were the ink stains left behind We were the frost left aching on the windows after winter has gone, we were feathers drifting down from the sky after the geese have flown We were the song played during the credits, we were the silence after the storm, we were the glow at the end of a perfect kiss We were the hearts that had never been broken, we were the breeze that had never been touched, You touched me like a sandstorm, like the flames licking up the pyre on the day Joan of Arc died, you touched me like a fingernail moon, longing for the sun We spent our days in the sun, our chapped lips turning red under the sky, the paper dreams you never gave me, because if there's one thing I know, it's that my waiting arms were always waiting, you never let your hurricane heart sweep me up in the storm, I never knew your mother died until I saw it on the news, you had a life outside of this and I never knew. But if there's one thing I know, it's that my heart stopped the day you let me brush your freckles across your face like wayward strands of hair That little mouth open, soul escaping through your lips
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Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
Freckles
There are power lines buried in your wrists, barbed wire fantasies dying to escape You and I, we were fingerprints, we were the ink stains left behind We were the frost left aching on the windows after winter has gone, we were feathers drifting down from the sky after the geese have flown We were the song played during the credits, we were the silence after the storm, we were the glow at the end of a perfect kiss We were the hearts that had never been broken, we were the breeze that had never been touched, You touched me like a sandstorm, like the flames licking up the pyre on the day Joan of Arc died, you touched me like a fingernail moon, longing for the sun We spent our days in the sun, our chapped lips turning red under the sky, the paper dreams you never gave me, because if there's one thing I know, it's that my waiting arms were always waiting, you never let your hurricane heart sweep me up in the storm, I never knew your mother died until I saw it on the news, you had a life outside of this and I never knew. But if there's one thing I know, it's that my heart stopped the day you let me brush your freckles across your face like wayward strands of hair That little mouth open, soul escaping through your lips
Not sure about the title on this. Let me know what you think.
loewen-s-graves
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Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
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