Underneath the stretched yawn of consented stars
Only glinting back and forth to each other mirroring faces
Over broken back people’s poetry
Cobwebs are sticky and united swamped in a thick mist
I wear the smell of you
Around my pursed lips, your Tongue balancing on my lower lip
I pull away from you, the shadows tell me, “It’s always the quiet ones, oh frightened one”
And I look back to the sound of my outreached hand,
As my body tilts and kneels forward.
The hallways are dark, a purple aura falling to my feet
The rain is gushing
Hitting the roof hard, I know it will come tumbling down like bricks
On top of me, I’m quiet now (listening)
Your heart in your body thudding hard against my ribs
Can you hear it too?
Created: Jan 04, 2012fire_faerie Document Media