a cotton-coloured sky sheared with wiping hands
foggy windows
when I'm with you through the windshield until
the frame gives and it follows is to the ground
the crows roared Poe loud and low in metronome flow
and floe that hides more than it shows and grows and grows and grows
until we're too cold to move move move
solid
and I was naive to believe the street strips skin
stretches it thin over drum kits like canvas
and lets the beat sound low and loud
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
a cotton-coloured sky sheared with wiping hands
foggy windows
when I'm with you through the windshield until
the frame gives and it follows is to the ground
the crows roared Poe loud and low in metronome flow
and floe that hides more than it shows and grows and grows and grows
until we're too cold to move move move
solid
and I was naive to believe the street strips skin
stretches it thin over drum kits like canvas
and lets the beat sound low and loud
