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worn-downPoems
Lost my air from a parting glance, a split second that haunts my memories The crunch of gravel beneath our bare feet, tired arms around my neck Dancing drunk in the morning, waiting for the dandelions to unfold dying arms Feta cheese and Greek olives, hummus on flat bread, a sip of merlot A kiss with dim eyes under live oak branches, a parting breath, exhaled into open skies I turn under the disc of the sun, chased by moon and clouds, the clear quiet of night I surrender my thoughts to the dead leaves, broken branches, my holy totems I lay my voice on wild grasses; let it float down, drip into running water I write my words on ***** walls, tomorrow scratched to illegible nothings Outlines of small hands on colored paper, hard to believe we were all children, once
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Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 9:17 AM UTC
Air
Lost my air from a parting glance, a split second that haunts my memories The crunch of gravel beneath our bare feet, tired arms around my neck Dancing drunk in the morning, waiting for the dandelions to unfold dying arms Feta cheese and Greek olives, hummus on flat bread, a sip of merlot A kiss with dim eyes under live oak branches, a parting breath, exhaled into open skies I turn under the disc of the sun, chased by moon and clouds, the clear quiet of night I surrender my thoughts to the dead leaves, broken branches, my holy totems I lay my voice on wild grasses; let it float down, drip into running water I write my words on ***** walls, tomorrow scratched to illegible nothings Outlines of small hands on colored paper, hard to believe we were all children, once
worn-down
Written by
worn-down
33/M/American
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 9:17 AM UTC
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