::::droplets like prisms strike a chord in me
And they’ve been ringing more often than not::::
Seeds grown underground propel the earth into our trunks:
the bark grooves like the paisley promises detailed on your sleeve’s cuff
make oxygen hard
frizzy coffee knots of your forearms twist and turn like air bubbles sliding up around saturated hair follicles
My hands like kelp coiling through your water
each bubble holds its own world,
radiant planets on our limbs
::Feeling valuable
fragrant sounds captured within its iridescent skin
burst only to steam open eyelids between sunsets:
a hot orb of realization that crosses my fingertips
Longing
wanting to know the way you worked.
why your fingertips felt like velvet on my dimples.
the homegrown past makes me think
The White Bird never found its golden cage
And Today only existed once
*everything you want I swear
all will come true*
Jorma cries in the background,
at least he makes a sound at all.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 5:24 PM UTC
::::droplets like prisms strike a chord in me
And they’ve been ringing more often than not::::
Seeds grown underground propel the earth into our trunks:
the bark grooves like the paisley promises detailed on your sleeve’s cuff
make oxygen hard
frizzy coffee knots of your forearms twist and turn like air bubbles sliding up around saturated hair follicles
My hands like kelp coiling through your water
each bubble holds its own world,
radiant planets on our limbs
::Feeling valuable
fragrant sounds captured within its iridescent skin
burst only to steam open eyelids between sunsets:
a hot orb of realization that crosses my fingertips
Longing
wanting to know the way you worked.
why your fingertips felt like velvet on my dimples.
the homegrown past makes me think
The White Bird never found its golden cage
And Today only existed once
*everything you want I swear
all will come true*
Jorma cries in the background,
at least he makes a sound at all.
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