When the fluttering stops
And wings begin to grow
Back into us we become
Our distance.
we entrance
Our red blanketed lips to
Bow to your untaken sands.
Seas of hurdles and cameos
Filled with stubborn firefly
Blind eyes.
I wanted to imagine all
The possible ways to guide you
Through this sabotaging
Plastic grey.
And i could think of non other
But to bleed with you
Beside you within us in
Dark.
Im left handed with
Your image in my
Numbered days.
