there are soft little pieces of forever shoved into the corners of your teeth
on the granite slabs of mountainous look-outs,
you sharpen
long walking sticks from boughs of fragrant juniper.
and forget to pass the small berries to the birds that like them
its been a long time
wicking out the passion from moments that will out live us.
and trying to understand the fine pulverized sand in the fissures:
spreading out like veins across boulders that support
the weight.
our bodies-
carefully outlining the places where silent embryos come apart,
dragging the backs of our fingernails across the green-grey stone with open palms
to catch the stardust we
think
tumbles out of the ether-
casting off all of my anger. as i watch the tiny
flecks of destiny caught in the tips of your eyelashes as they close-
and the greatest tragedy of all,
as the blue becomes blue.
this (and only this)-
no one to share the view
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 12:47 PM UTC
there are soft little pieces of forever shoved into the corners of your teeth
on the granite slabs of mountainous look-outs,
you sharpen
long walking sticks from boughs of fragrant juniper.
and forget to pass the small berries to the birds that like them
its been a long time
wicking out the passion from moments that will out live us.
and trying to understand the fine pulverized sand in the fissures:
spreading out like veins across boulders that support
the weight.
our bodies-
carefully outlining the places where silent embryos come apart,
dragging the backs of our fingernails across the green-grey stone with open palms
to catch the stardust we
think
tumbles out of the ether-
casting off all of my anger. as i watch the tiny
flecks of destiny caught in the tips of your eyelashes as they close-
and the greatest tragedy of all,
as the blue becomes blue.
this (and only this)-
no one to share the view
Request permission to use this poem