I can see everything from up here,
watching you against the freckled backdrop,
that marble I made home,
that I shot across the sand,
into parts unknown,
a lost toy under the sofa,
sitting there stationary,
existing just fine without me,
until the day I found you again,
the way you moved so quickly,
the way the light hit you,
despite the scratches and stains,
even now you look brand new,
like the day we met,
petrifying and infinite,
like a planet,
rolling across a hardwood floor.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
I can see everything from up here,
watching you against the freckled backdrop,
that marble I made home,
that I shot across the sand,
into parts unknown,
a lost toy under the sofa,
sitting there stationary,
existing just fine without me,
until the day I found you again,
the way you moved so quickly,
the way the light hit you,
despite the scratches and stains,
even now you look brand new,
like the day we met,
petrifying and infinite,
like a planet,
rolling across a hardwood floor.
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