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sand carved songs still embellish your ankles six-four twirls a hazel salt water dance dead love letters from when we once swam through the skin of the horizon with our two winged shadow morning funerals the sun apologetic; her knees kissing, our ashes float in her hanging furnace i’ve been peeling, unglueing cigarettes off my skin like flakes of rain scribbling prayer on every snowflake smoke festoons this passé system of patchwork breath kissing my cheekbones the way you used to under too many starless nights i’ve lost count of how long i’ve been addicted.
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Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
cigarette
sand carved songs still embellish your ankles six-four twirls a hazel salt water dance dead love letters from when we once swam through the skin of the horizon with our two winged shadow morning funerals the sun apologetic; her knees kissing, our ashes float in her hanging furnace i’ve been peeling, unglueing cigarettes off my skin like flakes of rain scribbling prayer on every snowflake smoke festoons this passé system of patchwork breath kissing my cheekbones the way you used to under too many starless nights i’ve lost count of how long i’ve been addicted.
pragya-chawla
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Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
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