we climb to the summit
just as the sky bursts,
a midday coronation
and we begin orbit.
no one can touch us here
clouds spinning above our heads
like a mobile hanging over a crib;
these children are so soft
these children are so scared.
miles away from war and pain
yet a soldier returns home today.
a soldier rests.
and the lazy spark
like a film I've never seen
mistakes in turning towards,
turning away.
creases in the folds.
kneading your thoughts
shoving them into desk drawers
frantically, so you can find them
later.
this moment, you save for the sky.
do not fall asleep.
fall asleep.
the wind runs its cool palms
over me, gently, gently
and I'm shivering.
then, everything in reverse.
(you are small,
you are gigantic,
you are not the universe
like they tell you, but a particle,
less than a particle,
important only to minuscule bodies
on a tiny, faithless planet.)
there's going to be time.
every minute is ours to blow to pieces
every moving landscape
leaves us with another place
to call home,
maybe.
another place to point to on a map
and say "we've been there"
another place to fall asleep
on your shoulder,
another place to leave behind.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
we climb to the summit
just as the sky bursts,
a midday coronation
and we begin orbit.
no one can touch us here
clouds spinning above our heads
like a mobile hanging over a crib;
these children are so soft
these children are so scared.
miles away from war and pain
yet a soldier returns home today.
a soldier rests.
and the lazy spark
like a film I've never seen
mistakes in turning towards,
turning away.
creases in the folds.
kneading your thoughts
shoving them into desk drawers
frantically, so you can find them
later.
this moment, you save for the sky.
do not fall asleep.
fall asleep.
the wind runs its cool palms
over me, gently, gently
and I'm shivering.
then, everything in reverse.
(you are small,
you are gigantic,
you are not the universe
like they tell you, but a particle,
less than a particle,
important only to minuscule bodies
on a tiny, faithless planet.)
there's going to be time.
every minute is ours to blow to pieces
every moving landscape
leaves us with another place
to call home,
maybe.
another place to point to on a map
and say "we've been there"
another place to fall asleep
on your shoulder,
another place to leave behind.
