Tip-toe into the milk of a squeezed moon,
newborn feeling mooring leather into
the purpled sandcastles
of two hearts aging into one.
The evening ocean arches in the scent
of a midsummer's dress,
constellations of polyestered flowers
flirting in curtained grace and printed reverence.
The vernal sun awakens an epidemic
of muffled hand-holding among the city
youth desperate in their nonchalance,
harking that the harsh cold of frost forbids all love,
a falsehood so inexplicably fiddled,
as these hands found yours
most in the shiver of snowfall.
-KPG
With a cloudburst of fevered lightening
my hands float rapturous amidst your hymn
cascading lapis beads of dew
Cling to blades of grass we stir in haste
Dose me with your winter embers
the hum of ruins resurrects the reckless.
I place a single lilly in glass of milk
and galavant above the rivets of infant stars.
I see you crystal clear in the blur of snapshots
growing as leaves on mahogany.
An unexpected wanting for your summer dress
ignite and relishes in an unadulterated night.
Walk with me horizon to galaxy
destiny and sawdust creates the world
walk with me
towards something underlying
walk with me through the wildflower moors.
-ASB
No comments:
Post a Comment