We ran between tree trunks,
slotting ourselves perfectly into each other
's flaws. I had shoulders the crunched
when I was touched, you had freckles
that caused droughts
in my throat.
I dog-licked my veins
back into cool waters
and away from your revolving doors;
lawn mowers whirled there, making a fresh may
out of grassroots and vapid love,
they unpeeled our hands to unearth
those dead cells won't let go.
But sometimes we don't talk for days,
we lay in dirt like dead birds
until the gravel shifts us back together.
It should not be this way.
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Comments
--
In this Chaos and burning I find a way to release, these are my words, these words set me free, This is my breath of life, this is me, in my free colored and spirited world of poetry.
Jeannie
i hope you are well.
*nods*
--
I hear
your voice
down the hall, through the window, above
all those trees, a light
it seems
& you are singing. What song
is that The words
are beautiful.
-LeRoi Jones
--
Breathe...
a riveting and interesting read
--
Music Is True Love
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