Wednesday, 7 June 2023

premature colors

 in the open of my arms

the lines set us apart. and in

the circle of our names we

gather eyelids that dropped

while stripping us away.


when we met you slid

down my tongue into

a fortress of regret ,

fear,

pain and born again,

love.

but i am a forest nymph

awaiting glory clouds to

rain fists from the forgotten

bruises.

wondering how i misspelled

our own astrology...

got me to this palace of

unknown spaces

between us, that existed the

whole time.



 

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...