Twelve Months: November

By marenaa

Something I wrote in November, about a memory from November:

The aches of crying birds cloud your sweet dreams,
they sleep on your pillowcase with nests built in your brain.
Their soft underbellies beg for a buffer from the words leaving the mouths of craned necks with open lungs.
I'll run my fingers over you once--my skin can't hold the fire.

Twelve Months: November

Created: Jul 23, 2010


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