you reminded me of a trip i took to the countryside, one summer. the back yard of our cottage stretched out onto a field, filled with grass the colour of sand, that reached my waist. there was a tree in the middle of it all. a thick trunk, with a dusting of leaves. i always thought how perfect it would be to sit under that tree, late at night, or early in the morning (whichever way you look at it), with a stomach too full, thoughts too drunk, eyes empty of tears,
or your arms around me.
i think it was that sky, though; a robin's egg blue teasing the tips of the long grass. sometimes i looked at you and felt that sky growing inside of me, knotted with my soul in the most delicate way possible. sometimes, i still do.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
you reminded me of a trip i took to the countryside, one summer. the back yard of our cottage stretched out onto a field, filled with grass the colour of sand, that reached my waist. there was a tree in the middle of it all. a thick trunk, with a dusting of leaves. i always thought how perfect it would be to sit under that tree, late at night, or early in the morning (whichever way you look at it), with a stomach too full, thoughts too drunk, eyes empty of tears,
or your arms around me.
i think it was that sky, though; a robin's egg blue teasing the tips of the long grass. sometimes i looked at you and felt that sky growing inside of me, knotted with my soul in the most delicate way possible. sometimes, i still do.