Friday, 2 November 2018

gratitude

give me you and watch
how my opal breathes again
when i submit to all your prism
colored obediences;
then I will sleep.
we slept awake and away
searched for distances we no
longer hid from each paper train.
of our minds we deepen our good
morning strands and forget that we
are strangers dancing in her flying
dreams.
 
 

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...