I’d like to be your lungs,
a necessity,
forever expanding and contracting
always a place for me
inside of you.
Again I crack,
crumble
and settle at your feet.
Looking up at you,
you’re closer to the sun
than anyone should be.
I dampen my heels
in pools of nostalgia:
elixir of the heart
and a simultaneous poison.
Even the pale tree-leaves,
in a conspiracy
allude to you.
I tell myself
these circumstances
are beyond my control.
Sitting patiently,
I practice not thinking
of you.
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
I’d like to be your lungs,
a necessity,
forever expanding and contracting
always a place for me
inside of you.
Again I crack,
crumble
and settle at your feet.
Looking up at you,
you’re closer to the sun
than anyone should be.
I dampen my heels
in pools of nostalgia:
elixir of the heart
and a simultaneous poison.
Even the pale tree-leaves,
in a conspiracy
allude to you.
I tell myself
these circumstances
are beyond my control.
Sitting patiently,
I practice not thinking
of you.
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