Sunday, 12 July 2015

closed tears and cardboard hands

the life of our past bring forth these
disappointed sunflower displays; 
we died young because we 
missed each other
through the sand. dusted 
wings and we
still became our enemies we still
ordered out of our chests and closed
off tears with our cardboard hands.
planted glass walls and these
leaves cannot breathe out;
they are inside these acronyms
and each robot rain drop is
magical because we touched
it while it fell.

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...