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Airtight Life
There's a fire in the morning, colored grey
but today's not the day for seeing
not for you..
look at your hands, wonders they've seen
though perhaps too few
please tell me yours
the fading dreams
in our curfew..
being so close to a heartbeat
so familiar
yet not mine
feel it so dear
such a mark..
pay no attention, those machines
with subtle drone
they count life different
through lovely skin turned
translucent
still your own.
and who knows, ah..., who indeed
streaming in tears
grey strands of rhyme
your time
and so thankful,
mine.
there'll appear a door
where all's right
though torpedo'd
your ship remains
in spirit
airtight.
Copyright ©
Quoth Theraven
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