we left behind
gated, frosting footsteps:
a pulsing night, pulling
in and out of colour:
you were an
outlined track on our
palms: a myriad of
our voices tangling
as rubber wires:
a crystal in our cloudless breath,
an art i couldn't limn.
you were brittle
and warm: i still
shivered as i brushed
your shoulder.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 12:26 AM UTC
we left behind
gated, frosting footsteps:
a pulsing night, pulling
in and out of colour:
you were an
outlined track on our
palms: a myriad of
our voices tangling
as rubber wires:
a crystal in our cloudless breath,
an art i couldn't limn.
you were brittle
and warm: i still
shivered as i brushed
your shoulder.
I think I realise something for the first time:
you're a person I've never met,
but whom I've seen a thousand times.
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