back to the days of dandelion dreaming
tasting the sweetness at the center
and squeezing the sap from the stems
onto our dirt dusted hands
frantic finger-painting on the cement dance floor that we bloomed from
back to the sage-dressed lake bed
she laughs
and boasts silently to the sky of her emerald depths
i laugh
and boast ineloquently to the bottle's neck of my mermadic swimming
always got my head beneath the surface
but this isn't suffocation
no
just transformation
i am on the rise
back to the nights of meteor showers at the top of the world
from the hood of my car
sharing candy bars and over-ripe secrets
it's the browning fruit that tastes the sweetest
so freedom must be the color of garden soil
or maybe just the same shade as your eyes
back to the laughter
erupting from our child-like bellies
like hot water
from granite springs themselves
remember?
back to the tents
and firepits
and unmapped road trips with no end in sight
back to the chapter
with the "happily-ever-after"
and the monsters under the bed packing up for a holiday in spain
back to the light
that's how i'll survive
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
back to the days of dandelion dreaming
tasting the sweetness at the center
and squeezing the sap from the stems
onto our dirt dusted hands
frantic finger-painting on the cement dance floor that we bloomed from
back to the sage-dressed lake bed
she laughs
and boasts silently to the sky of her emerald depths
i laugh
and boast ineloquently to the bottle's neck of my mermadic swimming
always got my head beneath the surface
but this isn't suffocation
no
just transformation
i am on the rise
back to the nights of meteor showers at the top of the world
from the hood of my car
sharing candy bars and over-ripe secrets
it's the browning fruit that tastes the sweetest
so freedom must be the color of garden soil
or maybe just the same shade as your eyes
back to the laughter
erupting from our child-like bellies
like hot water
from granite springs themselves
remember?
back to the tents
and firepits
and unmapped road trips with no end in sight
back to the chapter
with the "happily-ever-after"
and the monsters under the bed packing up for a holiday in spain
back to the light
that's how i'll survive
finally, it feels like spring time in wyoming. 50 degrees and the sun shining like she never did quit; winter's finally loosening his death-grip.
