Jan 2015
Cool white sheets. Blue
sunshine filtering through
my hand learning your skin.
Dreaming of angels.
Empty shadows on
quiet streets.
The city breathes in,
grass blades quiver.
A drumming echo.
The hasty steps of
belatedness.
I shift my hand.
The faucets, dripping.
The sunrise pulling
your skin into alps,
but you’re not cold.
A high-rise drips its
concrete breath.
The sky breaks.
Exhale and return.
sunshine filtering through
my hand learning your skin.
Dreaming of angels.
Empty shadows on
quiet streets.
The city breathes in,
grass blades quiver.
A drumming echo.
The hasty steps of
belatedness.
I shift my hand.
The faucets, dripping.
The sunrise pulling
your skin into alps,
but you’re not cold.
A high-rise drips its
concrete breath.
The sky breaks.
Exhale and return.
I wanted to capture the feeling that the song gave me. It feels so simple and pure, but tinged with melancholy and some kind of hopeless hopefulness. It feels like walking an Autumn afternoon in a deserted city street.
