Poker faces on Balboa,
the rainbow as our chips.
An orange glow blows past us in the thick, salty air.
Golden blue sea water carrying itself our way,
in tall graceful strides.
A vulnerability shared.
Just for us.
And the only thing I can think is:
Can I keep you?
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:46 AM UTC
Poker faces on Balboa,
the rainbow as our chips.
An orange glow blows past us in the thick, salty air.
Golden blue sea water carrying itself our way,
in tall graceful strides.
A vulnerability shared.
Just for us.
And the only thing I can think is:
Can I keep you?
Request permission to use this poem