I wish you and I would intertwine
like a silver-blue thread through the darkness,
and unravel ourselves,
float like dust, illuminated by the sunlight,
so I can't tell me from you.
I wish we'd be the small, overlooked tones,
making up a melody,
that faintly linger on subconsciously.
Me and you should be the wind
and the willow,
and kaleidoscopic convolutions of the sky,
of the mind;
a bouquet of flowers,
shared,
with a once-empty park bench,
for some lonely souls.
Their unseen smiles blossom in return.
There's plenty of life, even in a graveyard,
There is simply,
lots of love
between
all things.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
I wish you and I would intertwine
like a silver-blue thread through the darkness,
and unravel ourselves,
float like dust, illuminated by the sunlight,
so I can't tell me from you.
I wish we'd be the small, overlooked tones,
making up a melody,
that faintly linger on subconsciously.
Me and you should be the wind
and the willow,
and kaleidoscopic convolutions of the sky,
of the mind;
a bouquet of flowers,
shared,
with a once-empty park bench,
for some lonely souls.
Their unseen smiles blossom in return.
There's plenty of life, even in a graveyard,
There is simply,
lots of love
between
all things.
