Hands and wings melting
The love made by a finger and a blade
That feels every lash of your lips
Upon every turn of the page
Rolling across the frets are my phrases
Dissonant chords wailing beneath the spruce
Feelings strung and forgotten altogether
As the music tells them their tragic tale
Moons and the king behind the veils
A ring touched by the blackest heart
Sewn sentiments keep the city
Awake with the smell of blood
Breaths grew silent.
I could smell barley from the parcel.
Reversed for us, the cold truth
Made as such so we may learn
I painted facets of you on the fogged glass
I remember those conversations
As vomit pretending to be warm soup
Hands and wings merging
The love between a feather and a blade
That feels the rush of your fingertips
As you distastefully turn every page
Details deemed unimportant remain unseen.
Even if the way you see me has, our story still won't change.
#1708: SPRUCE ©Jake Ponce [May 20, 2013, 12:04am]
***Rewritten October 22, 2013 for the "GROOVE IT!" contest under Rock and Roll