#miscellanous
we sit. weary pupils dilate as we watch
the dying day mourn lilac tears onto
rosy cloud-cheeks,
eyes widen like it's an action movie
and the night has begun to wake
its warriors - or worse,
it's a documentary, and
someone's burning van gogh's stars
back into oblivion. lord, we're watching
universes fall and bleed
-but the film stops there.
our sentiments are unscripted,
it's just that chill that creeps up our
collars and strokes our
amygdalae enviously-
and i daresay, to our sightcaptor
who begins to reach her way in
and withdraw, simultaneously,
i dare speak:
do
not
touch
me
but it's hard to stay cool
when you love the face of the sun
and must sing her to sleep.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC