Wednesday, 26 October 2016

full broken moons

i am officially on to your specs;
each and every star broken
masterpiece your fingertips
have wised. fever- driven
escapades dreaming in a
dreary synonym provided me
with her tiny inspiration.

i can space out my thoughts
but then i will never find you
in my truth; i hope you will understand
my black and white before the
full moon approaches our window
again.



 

this will be my last poem

so that i remember. because before melted steel, there was hand-made, better, buttered words. we can decide if new spaces beneath me can qui...