in my garden
there's a feeling
of your fingers buried
beneath the snow
your hands as strong
diamond blades
but now we need to go
in my living room
the universe
leaks in through open windows
i try to dig you out of our suede couch
but the cushions fall too low
my old bedroom
hums a cleaning tune
of polka styled Sundays
you never understood
my floral sheets or any of my ways
in my driveway
bottle rockets lit
shooting past our skulls
you couldn't look at me
or anything that screamed romance at all
finally i see the bible green
craft woven through the fields
all i see is our lord savior
lighting cigarettes revealed
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
in my garden
there's a feeling
of your fingers buried
beneath the snow
your hands as strong
diamond blades
but now we need to go
in my living room
the universe
leaks in through open windows
i try to dig you out of our suede couch
but the cushions fall too low
my old bedroom
hums a cleaning tune
of polka styled Sundays
you never understood
my floral sheets or any of my ways
in my driveway
bottle rockets lit
shooting past our skulls
you couldn't look at me
or anything that screamed romance at all
finally i see the bible green
craft woven through the fields
all i see is our lord savior
lighting cigarettes revealed
You're happy, breathing, loving, and hurting me