the wooden doll is half alive

[astraldreams]

she flies her kites at night
soft skin cut by the glass threadlines
bleeding red jewels of blood
and here we are sitting on the same rocks
looking down the familiar dusty roads
so many before, so many after
cracked lips,parched throats
the dew of affection
ear speaking to
the eyes
talking to the
mouth
listening
to
the
idiot heart of a senseless wooden doll
she flies with purple kites
made of cotton pink fluff and softwhispers
a thousand and one dreams
the kites kiss the clouds before they disappear
for there was no possession in her world
then she was left with none but
pretty sweet nothings that kites wrote for her in the dark skies
bittersweet.memories.can.only.be.lived.when.constructed.
she sits alone in her fields of wild horses which no one sees but her.

 

[N Train]

nice....