Little girl
You don’t have to cut or heal
As the waves along the shore
Erode my feet.
Time is a passing thing
You don’t have to crack
Every mirror
As you stare at wishes
For an open window.
Don’t be a culprit
They always leave a mark
Of things to come.
Or whisper gently in my ears
“Find me when you wake.”
Change is just a yellow leaf
Falling to the ground.
And I, too, turn into you
As the summer sun
Brings back colour
To both your eyes.
Your body is but a burning flame
Why don’t you just
Keep dancing
As you put on your clothes
However
Do it slow.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
Little girl
You don’t have to cut or heal
As the waves along the shore
Erode my feet.
Time is a passing thing
You don’t have to crack
Every mirror
As you stare at wishes
For an open window.
Don’t be a culprit
They always leave a mark
Of things to come.
Or whisper gently in my ears
“Find me when you wake.”
Change is just a yellow leaf
Falling to the ground.
And I, too, turn into you
As the summer sun
Brings back colour
To both your eyes.
Your body is but a burning flame
Why don’t you just
Keep dancing
As you put on your clothes
However
Do it slow.
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