wings torn apart
from my eyes and withered away
mornings are velocities smoldering
wind. broken windows are shattering
but we can't hear it anymore
we can't hear them anymore.
scratches make me whole and broken pieces
eventually tell our story;
brave little sharpened tears who
fell apart when
we fell in love.
they have eyes they have spirit they
feel suede imaginations
they feel rained on rubble
they feel travelling sun rays
they feel the cripple the crippled grass
beneath their limbs.
they smell the rustic air and breathe
in and breathe out
and breathe in and
breathe out.
they feel our passion
for their eyes.
and i stand still for
them. and i stand still for
the freedom of the
speechless.
