It’s 15 to tomorrow,
And who knows what cold hands will bring
To the epiphany
I’ll surely encounter
Upon peering into your
Precocious
Blues, browns, and
Greens
Of your vintage sweaters
The floor stained off-white
Of tile scampered socks
An orange fingertip serving
As a reminder
To a pack a day,
20 too many
To fill your chest with an air
You cannot quite intake
With an everyday breath
Still in a quiet room, we sit.
A rumpled
Crumpled
Heartstring,
Placed so delicately along the
Spires of your burning mountaintop
Our only available conversation piece
Is this?
One more burning diversion
So we can affix our eyes on something
With a little fire
Anything, it seems,
For a little fire.
Stare at embers
In place of slighted eye-smiles
Silly child smiles
Running throughout my mind,
And out of my mouth
Onto your lap
And into oblivion
So i stifle the quiet with my own smoky pillow
And speech resurfaces under the guise of a mutual security
You sip your coffee,
And i mine.
A light, a flick..
Deep breath
Sigh….
Another 3 inch escape from
Having to speak
Another dust-filled table
To represent
The ashes
Of some far off thought
To feared to mention,
Too distant to grasp.
And always sitting
Quietly,
Centered,
Burning through the corners of my mind.
And the water comes.
You’ve drenched me with one pesky eyelash.
I’m hopeless for smoldering.
But I’m exhausted.
Waterlogged, and tired
And i can’t lift my hands to
Ignite
One last notion
Of stealing your flames
again.
And who knows what cold hands will bring
To the epiphany
I’ll surely encounter
Upon peering into your
Precocious
Blues, browns, and
Greens
Of your vintage sweaters
The floor stained off-white
Of tile scampered socks
An orange fingertip serving
As a reminder
To a pack a day,
20 too many
To fill your chest with an air
You cannot quite intake
With an everyday breath
Still in a quiet room, we sit.
A rumpled
Crumpled
Heartstring,
Placed so delicately along the
Spires of your burning mountaintop
Our only available conversation piece
Is this?
One more burning diversion
So we can affix our eyes on something
With a little fire
Anything, it seems,
For a little fire.
Stare at embers
In place of slighted eye-smiles
Silly child smiles
Running throughout my mind,
And out of my mouth
Onto your lap
And into oblivion
So i stifle the quiet with my own smoky pillow
And speech resurfaces under the guise of a mutual security
You sip your coffee,
And i mine.
A light, a flick..
Deep breath
Sigh….
Another 3 inch escape from
Having to speak
Another dust-filled table
To represent
The ashes
Of some far off thought
To feared to mention,
Too distant to grasp.
And always sitting
Quietly,
Centered,
Burning through the corners of my mind.
And the water comes.
You’ve drenched me with one pesky eyelash.
I’m hopeless for smoldering.
But I’m exhausted.
Waterlogged, and tired
And i can’t lift my hands to
Ignite
One last notion
Of stealing your flames
again.
nice work tho
