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mahiwagangcorreselPoems
We live in the liminal of imagined dreams                                            What if We parked our shoes and dust our sleeves The wounds are clean                                What if We mean what we spoke And pinky swear and it’s still there Feed the elephant of what it craved Carcasses of threshold crossed                            It’s you and me Finally; what if          I die every day loving you And silently you do the same           And our lungs are fresh air
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Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 4:02 PM UTC
Bound
We live in the liminal of imagined dreams                                            What if We parked our shoes and dust our sleeves The wounds are clean                                What if We mean what we spoke And pinky swear and it’s still there Feed the elephant of what it craved Carcasses of threshold crossed                            It’s you and me Finally; what if          I die every day loving you And silently you do the same           And our lungs are fresh air
mahiwagangcorresel
Written by
mahiwagangcorresel
21/F
Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 4:02 PM UTC
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