Because I’ve never felt anything else.
My hands are always cupped towards the sun, the moon.
The seasons always seem a little more intense,
But that’s the price I pay for drinking deep
From every cloudy light that touches our naked forms.
And every speeding red car seems smashed against cement
Like the blood smeared against the shower tiles.
And we’re traveling down the riverbed, waiting for reality
To hit us square between the eyes and every finger but
reality could never hit me as hard as you did.
I’m flipping through old poetry, and like a slideshow
I see every living origami unfold beneath me.
Dangerous, dangerous, as my breathing slows,
Suffocated by the darkness that I had once succumbed to.
The multiple ‘he’s’ that I never knew.
And beautiful sunsets don’t have that kick anymore;
Not that they really ‘kick’ anyway, it’s more a kiss.
A gentle, soothing kiss that has lost it’s spark.
The gold and red has been exchanged for cooling blues
And purple clouds that sigh in anguish.