cold hands and brittle bones
your skin is thin like snow on summer mountains and you are beautiful
open your ribs
i will sleep in your lungs
i will breathe your breath
i will taste of your insides and i will love you
a cracked skull
your head is full of fire
i will push your pieces back into place
i will make you beautiful again
there are flowers in the notches of your spine
i will water your flowers and feel you
bend and flex and bend and twist and flex and bend
an orchestra of blood and bone and sinew and gristle
watch the angels on your skin
skimming your mountains and valleys
your bumps and bruises
i will find your constellations
your veins are failing and you cannot feel and you are beautiful
tight fists and soft lips
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
cold hands and brittle bones
your skin is thin like snow on summer mountains and you are beautiful
open your ribs
i will sleep in your lungs
i will breathe your breath
i will taste of your insides and i will love you
a cracked skull
your head is full of fire
i will push your pieces back into place
i will make you beautiful again
there are flowers in the notches of your spine
i will water your flowers and feel you
bend and flex and bend and twist and flex and bend
an orchestra of blood and bone and sinew and gristle
watch the angels on your skin
skimming your mountains and valleys
your bumps and bruises
i will find your constellations
your veins are failing and you cannot feel and you are beautiful
tight fists and soft lips
