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saige Apr 2018
it's been a long time
since i saw you with short hair
no scars, and wide eyes

it's been a long time
since that spring we crash-landed
into eachother

hello was the start
of a shy, long time coming
farewell in the works

see somehow, we raised
eachother for rock bottom
then raced to get there

but, cut! life drips on
hurts like sorry, sighs like space
we've seen better times

wonder if kids can
grow up backwards, outgrow heart?
well, suppose we have

still, you deserve those
wide pools of blue you were born
to watch the world through

it's been a long time
since you gave me butterflies
this time, they're for you

hands tied, fingers crossed
misty eyes as you take flight
it's been a long time

and it'll be an even longer
night
once the sun sets
without you
beneath it
saige Apr 2018
for two minutes and
fifty four seconds
we are chargers
once again

a black bolt of lightning
in fog light vision
i, the barefoot shotgun
him, shoving ninety
down yo-yo back roads
shooing luck out of
the moon roof

this song
is our hero

hands whip like glory
beats soar as his eclipse
roars past high gear

riffs wail
and we tune into
the thrill of forgetting
home is just a memory
half a mile south

sometime i'll learn to drive
our souls so wild
for now
giggles turn to weeps
with the smile beside me

this boy
is my hero
saige Apr 2018
what rests in shallow arms
to wade through violent waters?
a blistered little sunken heart
drunk on the idea
that love might save her...
saige Apr 2018
"what do you think
you're doing?"

"nothing
compared to what
i've already done."
saige Apr 2018
let's wade upstream
sure, you can follow me
i'm heading into sunset
around the dams
and up the falls, and
muddy water runs deep
in these veins, after all, and
ahoy, a nest!
amid pine needles
and gatorade bottles
sits pretty mother goose
hissing like a serpent
so, take off! for the shore!
like helpless little children
let's race downstream
saige Apr 2018
behind
the snowball bush
springtime streams
like shooting stars
slicing through
all winter left
behind

does he love me?
on sprigs of rosemary
petals aren't meant to be
plucked
it hurts my knuckles
to strip this yard
of such color
or, does he not?

behind
the blackberry bush
thorns snag me
back to when
i loved april
without him

besides
i want our love to mock
these blossoms
for everywhere
i smell them
even if my favorite
tree is bare
saige Apr 2018
dance with me
don't wait for the
sun to come back
or the sleet to
cease fire
life is now
and our love
is fervent
don't you see?
hands to hips and
heads to chests and
heart to heart
and this is how
our love is
fervent
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