Tuesday, 10 March 2015

gypsy winged soul

through our disturbing
we climbed through
me with cracked walls and
beneath my chin i see.
their station wagon words
are free; forest green eyes.
two worlds colliding, crying
crystal tolerance in between
their theory of us;
i am an archaeologist untamed.
i am your naked pages of truth and
white; gypsy winged soul.


invisible lined protection

after, life. there was a pause and we ended our grass-grown eyebrows and curled up against our dreaming eyes. this is where i leave you, and...