1.
She’s a one-way trip on my mind — unblinking, electronic eyes;
static emotions hum each time we speak. I stare at her eternal graffiti:
sugar-brown walls, painted warm tears, melting frozen dreams.
I’m bucking like a wild stallion, cowboy hats lost in the wind —
rhythms, expectations of time and place latched to bone; our second
skin, our shelter, our hook, herald, hospice — our familiar space.
2.
And what about love, the great shape-shifter? Folding hearts like
paper just to fit into another’s hand. Love curls around us like a cat
draped across our shoulders — but without nine lives to heal from
another heartbreak. Hope, joy, sorrow — even the words roll easily
from the tongue. “I love you,” we say, letting the truth slip out.
3.
Fingers upon string, flesh upon bone — you were once my answer to
it all; now, you don’t even answer the phone. Calling for you through
the glass, wrinkling the world with my breath. When I grow old,
I dream of an ice-caked beard, coffee steam rising — the taste of
earned wisdom. Listening to our song, I find it’s lost its chord —
all we have left is one note. This was once the sound of love.
4.
The bridge falls — the ones we crossed, the ones we built, the ones
we sang upon. The air between us now is empty, but the memories —
oh, they remain so plenty. Thank you!
Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 12:00 PM UTC
1.
She’s a one-way trip on my mind — unblinking, electronic eyes;
static emotions hum each time we speak. I stare at her eternal graffiti:
sugar-brown walls, painted warm tears, melting frozen dreams.
I’m bucking like a wild stallion, cowboy hats lost in the wind —
rhythms, expectations of time and place latched to bone; our second
skin, our shelter, our hook, herald, hospice — our familiar space.
2.
And what about love, the great shape-shifter? Folding hearts like
paper just to fit into another’s hand. Love curls around us like a cat
draped across our shoulders — but without nine lives to heal from
another heartbreak. Hope, joy, sorrow — even the words roll easily
from the tongue. “I love you,” we say, letting the truth slip out.
3.
Fingers upon string, flesh upon bone — you were once my answer to
it all; now, you don’t even answer the phone. Calling for you through
the glass, wrinkling the world with my breath. When I grow old,
I dream of an ice-caked beard, coffee steam rising — the taste of
earned wisdom. Listening to our song, I find it’s lost its chord —
all we have left is one note. This was once the sound of love.
4.
The bridge falls — the ones we crossed, the ones we built, the ones
we sang upon. The air between us now is empty, but the memories —
oh, they remain so plenty. Thank you!
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