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around now

the soft monitor glow,

the vacant chair

ruins my flow,

hints of lipstick on

my chapstick, quarters

in candle lids, an

unsent letter and two

forgotten crescent

moons won't

give me in.

Our chaotic time,

we still danced our

song in rhyme,

they tried to charge

us with crime,

it's just their hearts

are lime,

while we let go,

ride the wind

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Written by

hank-roberts

30 / M / American

Published: Mar 7, 2016
LinesWords: 2064

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