The One Time
in the cage of shadows
by the birches cast
your red raincoat
wetly shines
Papers and clouds of dreams are stuck to the
benches and the iron railings
awasy in the fading sky,
I look at you
the way a child
sees the circus
for the first time
the window where we meet
tries to steal the candy colors
of your coat
but it can/t
You're nothing special, though
a normal heart
filled with the ocean and
a million golden clocks,
amethysts and
a harvest moon.
Just an ordinary Goddess,
swirling, among the world
with unmuted plumage
when you kiss my cheek and leave
it burns and lingers like
a hot shell casing
among the smoke and noise
inside of me.
Posted by p.love at 3:17 PM No comments: Links to this post
FRIDAY, MARCH 16, 2018
He died one day
For three minutes
Not days
A machine was
Prepared,
But not ready
For a while it
Was winter light
Through an oceanic window
The loud congress of
Birds’ Shadows and
Velvet black indigo
The surprising cast
Of their kind, amber eyes
Welcome back
Sputtering and
Cut
Where everything hurts
And nothing
Makes sense
He cries
Like a child
Missing
Christmas
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