you came
you left
and yet the trees still sway
and summer still comes
all that remains is a strange longing,
memories that rose like cyclops in the
night
the trapdoors of desire,
the black-holes of our sharpened
souls
if you could be god, and
come back - if only for a moment, to tell me I was right,
then I would make your words my epitaph)
my purpled lover, like a
bulbous flower protruding from it's
stem,
you have eaten all the breadcrumbs,
so how will I find you again?
even if you had disappeared like
an evening ghost,
our souls had touched,
and for the first time
I could see the stars in other peoples' eyes
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC
you came
you left
and yet the trees still sway
and summer still comes
all that remains is a strange longing,
memories that rose like cyclops in the
night
the trapdoors of desire,
the black-holes of our sharpened
souls
if you could be god, and
come back - if only for a moment, to tell me I was right,
then I would make your words my epitaph)
my purpled lover, like a
bulbous flower protruding from it's
stem,
you have eaten all the breadcrumbs,
so how will I find you again?
even if you had disappeared like
an evening ghost,
our souls had touched,
and for the first time
I could see the stars in other peoples' eyes
