The One Time

in the cage of shadows by the birches cast your red raincoat wetly shines Papers and clouds of dreams are stuck to the benches and the iron railings awasy in the fading sky, I look at you the way a child sees the circus for the first time the window where we meet tries to steal the candy colors of your coat but it can/t You're nothing special, though a normal heart filled with the ocean and a million golden clocks, amethysts and a harvest moon. Just an ordinary Goddess, swirling, among the world with unmuted plumage when you kiss my cheek and leave it burns and lingers like a hot shell casing among the smoke and noise inside of me. Posted by p.love at 3:17 PM No comments: Links to this post FRIDAY, MARCH 16, 2018 He died one day For three minutes Not days A machine was Prepared, But not ready For a while it Was winter light Through an oceanic window The loud congress of Birds’ Shadows and Velvet black indigo The surprising cast Of their kind, amber eyes Welcome back Sputtering and Cut Where everything hurts And nothing Makes sense He cries Like a child Missing Christmas