Tuesday, 30 January 2018

ceramic limbs

just as it was;
alone greys with popular
tears.
you let your breathing die
inside you and instead i chose
the capital eye.
wash away with me in difficult
times we went straight towards the
isolated narrow between us ;
how magical it would be to
stare our freedom away in
store our own lives in harmonious
spines.
indian indigo; indiginous
freedom.

 

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...