Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
We were fugitives tonight. Fugitives of light; The blink of a window drawing naught but dusk. We grind against fate, crossed our fingers and flew from what we are, were-- might be. Closed the peak whole lest it should dawn and glid doomed, to some place nice.
0
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 3:33 PM UTC
Thoughts From Flight No. ---- to New Delhi
We were fugitives tonight. Fugitives of light; The blink of a window drawing naught but dusk. We grind against fate, crossed our fingers and flew from what we are, were-- might be. Closed the peak whole lest it should dawn and glid doomed, to some place nice.
What even is the past tense of glide/gliding?
dulce-ivonne
Written by
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 3:33 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem