how many limbs are left on us?
am i holding the bed, or holding the peace
for the eighteenth-hundred time?
we bury down
and grow up like a tree **** the tree.
i seek out arches of disparity; burning a space
in which only we can breathe:
i latch to each sigh that escapes from you.
and i swell up at the thought
of losing you
all over again.
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
how many limbs are left on us?
am i holding the bed, or holding the peace
for the eighteenth-hundred time?
we bury down
and grow up like a tree **** the tree.
i seek out arches of disparity; burning a space
in which only we can breathe:
i latch to each sigh that escapes from you.
and i swell up at the thought
of losing you
all over again.
