There's a place that I go
back to-
and it's a garden,
filled with flowers
and it's somewhere in the Northwest
where the forest moths and stretching firs
wait quietly for showers
it's there
where Monarchs
gather in
kaleidoscopes
and my densely swollen shadow
next to piercing sun
elopes
There's a place that I go
back to
where the plague of
dreams engulfs me
and it's at the end
of a nestled street
I find a
fever that exults
me.
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 9:29 AM UTC
There's a place that I go
back to-
and it's a garden,
filled with flowers
and it's somewhere in the Northwest
where the forest moths and stretching firs
wait quietly for showers
it's there
where Monarchs
gather in
kaleidoscopes
and my densely swollen shadow
next to piercing sun
elopes
There's a place that I go
back to
where the plague of
dreams engulfs me
and it's at the end
of a nestled street
I find a
fever that exults
me.