Tracing our lifeline on your back
Through every crossroad and shoulder blade
Over every vertebrae under the gray sky
One step over the edge of the world
To where the sighs and whispers fall
Where the grass is fed by our salty tears
And gods hum and ignore their tiny worshipers
Climbing up the brown branches of your hair
To meet your head in the clouds
They will see the finger pointing down
And jump off like a leaf in autumn
Snatched in the air by your hand
They can find out who they were and will be
As they rest their heads on your palm
When they wake up their masks will be gone
And they will smile
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 3:09 PM UTC
Tracing our lifeline on your back
Through every crossroad and shoulder blade
Over every vertebrae under the gray sky
One step over the edge of the world
To where the sighs and whispers fall
Where the grass is fed by our salty tears
And gods hum and ignore their tiny worshipers
Climbing up the brown branches of your hair
To meet your head in the clouds
They will see the finger pointing down
And jump off like a leaf in autumn
Snatched in the air by your hand
They can find out who they were and will be
As they rest their heads on your palm
When they wake up their masks will be gone
And they will smile
Request permission to use this poem