gods built homes
in the crook of your neck;
i feel them
every time my teeth
graze the surface,
the sky crumbles
down on their sturdy mountains
and somewhere between
your trembling fingers
settling
the earthquakes
in my bones
and lighting candles
with the fire
from your cheeks,
I lived through real
natural disasters
that not even
Poseidon himself
could wash my brain
with enough salt water
to rid the memories of.
Copyright © 2016 Alyssa Packard
All Rights Reserved
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
gods built homes
in the crook of your neck;
i feel them
every time my teeth
graze the surface,
the sky crumbles
down on their sturdy mountains
and somewhere between
your trembling fingers
settling
the earthquakes
in my bones
and lighting candles
with the fire
from your cheeks,
I lived through real
natural disasters
that not even
Poseidon himself
could wash my brain
with enough salt water
to rid the memories of.
Copyright © 2016 Alyssa Packard
All Rights Reserved
my first real poem about you
