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madcliPoems
our tram rides are loud words spilling out like loose rice scattered round our feet bright blue, silver, darkest black jackets soft and warm eye contact that lasts too long—- immediately overanalysed, I know. my wishful thinking, it often gets out of hand. walking in the dark, my hands are cold and lonely our eyes glance sideways too much, and yet too little.
0
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
wishful thinking
our tram rides are loud words spilling out like loose rice scattered round our feet bright blue, silver, darkest black jackets soft and warm eye contact that lasts too long—- immediately overanalysed, I know. my wishful thinking, it often gets out of hand. walking in the dark, my hands are cold and lonely our eyes glance sideways too much, and yet too little.
#thinking#cold#nights#wishful
madcli
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madcli
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
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