if i thought there would be enough sunsets
peachy pink baths and twilight friction
then maybe i wouldn’t be frozen now.
if that orangey milk could navigate the twisted time belt
and swallow me in the here and now
maybe it would melt me, maybe it would warm me
maybe i would laugh and see the wonders
of the cosmic radiance.
sunsets, though, are not enough
and hope—
it is an idealogical phantom, as love or fear,
it’s as real as you need—as real as you believe
until you run your fingers through it
and all that’s there
is mist.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 12:11 AM UTC
if i thought there would be enough sunsets
peachy pink baths and twilight friction
then maybe i wouldn’t be frozen now.
if that orangey milk could navigate the twisted time belt
and swallow me in the here and now
maybe it would melt me, maybe it would warm me
maybe i would laugh and see the wonders
of the cosmic radiance.
sunsets, though, are not enough
and hope—
it is an idealogical phantom, as love or fear,
it’s as real as you need—as real as you believe
until you run your fingers through it
and all that’s there
is mist.
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