He
Sat by the riverbank
He
Laughed like cold water
He
Brought to me, the ocean
He...
Where the current runs
behind, beneath
The undertow
Of his eyes
drowning Me
He
Left the scent of good-
Bye Before he’d
leave
As the scent of autumn
Promises winter
And barren, silent trees
My oars
set to the waves
To the phantom of
My sea
The wreck was me
Picking up every shell
Listening
for the sound
Of your feet
the waves
in your eyes
Returning for me
I wait with the moon
For your tides
Green is the color
Of the setting
Of my dreams
As they drifted away
In your
castaway-eyes
And I
Knew better
And you
Spoke plainly
And I
Heard nothing
Of the truth
That you
Gave me
But your voice-
It’s remaining
And your eyes
Are engraving
Their colors
on my canvas heart
like your initials
in my ****** bark
That leaves a wound
to die or scar
beneath its message
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC
He
Sat by the riverbank
He
Laughed like cold water
He
Brought to me, the ocean
He...
Where the current runs
behind, beneath
The undertow
Of his eyes
drowning Me
He
Left the scent of good-
Bye Before he’d
leave
As the scent of autumn
Promises winter
And barren, silent trees
My oars
set to the waves
To the phantom of
My sea
The wreck was me
Picking up every shell
Listening
for the sound
Of your feet
the waves
in your eyes
Returning for me
I wait with the moon
For your tides
Green is the color
Of the setting
Of my dreams
As they drifted away
In your
castaway-eyes
And I
Knew better
And you
Spoke plainly
And I
Heard nothing
Of the truth
That you
Gave me
But your voice-
It’s remaining
And your eyes
Are engraving
Their colors
on my canvas heart
like your initials
in my ****** bark
That leaves a wound
to die or scar
beneath its message
