walking away
in my new boots
boots stiff and cheap
but they will keep
some of the cold away

wishing the past into the now
wishing the mornings
with the shades drawn
wishing the cuts
in the sharp grass

running barefoot
running with our cares
on our shoulders
- old friends
not heavy at all

dark whispers
boil inside our violent skies
icy stars plummet and crash
- is there a place
where we can stash
the last supply of sun?

he taught dead languages
with a passion
that made her so alive
- ancient dawns
across new skies
syllables rhyming
in the dark

creased pages
corners upturned
whispers of pencils
whispers of rains

trailing long fingers
down memory lanes
writing letters
on window panes

long desperate journeys
unfold in the mist
curving looping roads
tangle and untwist
searching for a lover
like lips never kissed

must we always hurt
for the things we missed
always adding hopes
to the bucket list

yearning for the times
that might never come
for summers of honey
for autumns of plum

hoping for rain
in deserted towns
picking through the ruins
and losing our crowns

we learned how to tread water
in the heart of the city
- swimming through the ashes
of other people's days
other people's ways

we learned how to melt
the last of the scarlet hours
inside a coffee cup
stirring them in like a secret spice

we learned to always water our plants
even that cactus
that doesn't need much watering at all
forever hoping for it to bloom

we learned never to ask questions
learned to paint over our walls
again and again

staring at screens
blinking at lights
we blur the lines
of maps and flights
maybe it's time
to chase some kites

jump in the lake
release our hair
shrug off
the constant stop and play
swim through the night
dream away the day
I think we must be
such a cliché

butterflies beating
powdered wings
love frenzy
tearing colours apart
- in gardens of summer
there float diamonds
heated bursts
flickering dusts

there we sit
and drink the air
sour sweet
a strange affair

if we collide
will the lies come off?
smudged hues
and sunsets that bruise
might make us change
our tilted views