I value the lips to a modest dream
The fresh lipstick – outlining one’s imagination
In soft brush strokes; as the dreams of my child
Are quite distant nowadays, still silhouettes to a recent age
The metaphysical footprints of walking in faith, the path
It’s… so narrow on the trail of yellow grass; the sun is on
My back, like a long-legged shadow in this urban darkness
Questions bring up less of their answers- my life a riddled
Experience on a dusty path, where manure litters the street,
Pretending the smell is all so vague- but those **** flies!
I am alone, patrolling the ideas of one’s calling, beneath a
Crescent moon – from youthful screams, too loud to hear
The purpose to all my chaotic dreams: perhaps now,
I’m finally awake in the world, to see what it all means?
Jul 15, 2024
Jul 15, 2024 at 5:16 AM UTC
I value the lips to a modest dream
The fresh lipstick – outlining one’s imagination
In soft brush strokes; as the dreams of my child
Are quite distant nowadays, still silhouettes to a recent age
The metaphysical footprints of walking in faith, the path
It’s… so narrow on the trail of yellow grass; the sun is on
My back, like a long-legged shadow in this urban darkness
Questions bring up less of their answers- my life a riddled
Experience on a dusty path, where manure litters the street,
Pretending the smell is all so vague- but those **** flies!
I am alone, patrolling the ideas of one’s calling, beneath a
Crescent moon – from youthful screams, too loud to hear
The purpose to all my chaotic dreams: perhaps now,
I’m finally awake in the world, to see what it all means?
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