The sky above the sea misses the water
once the sun rises, and the skyline sits between them, and I miss you like that.
And, I miss you like the half-blazing cigarette misses those
warm lips
and the breath behind them, that would come in sharp, teasing drags
because the tobacco is nothing without that breath, and that ember goes out
and I think that without you
I might go out, too.
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 11:56 AM UTC
The sky above the sea misses the water
once the sun rises, and the skyline sits between them, and I miss you like that.
And, I miss you like the half-blazing cigarette misses those
warm lips
and the breath behind them, that would come in sharp, teasing drags
because the tobacco is nothing without that breath, and that ember goes out
and I think that without you
I might go out, too.