Folded and unfolded,
Until the creases
Are old friends,
Lines faded,
To indecipherable smudges.
Rhymes familiar,
Sentences similar.
Line for line,
Word for word,
Name to name.
The weight of your memory
Sits in my back pocket
Like a signature hangs on
The end of a dotted line
With the scent of finality
Arranging it.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
Folded and unfolded,
Until the creases
Are old friends,
Lines faded,
To indecipherable smudges.
Rhymes familiar,
Sentences similar.
Line for line,
Word for word,
Name to name.
The weight of your memory
Sits in my back pocket
Like a signature hangs on
The end of a dotted line
With the scent of finality
Arranging it.