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Kill-me grey clouds billowed Past our kitchen window. Jammed open Jammed-up without enough slack To come back down. Smokesleepily, take a drag-me-out-of-bed. I was folded tight and neat that night And slept sound-on-mute Waking two medium sized cracked open eyes To your broken-eggshell address: ‘It would be good to go out today- Pulled stockings had fallen. That Feline sound padded Towards our bodies’ warmth. That wilder one cascades, Sending machine-gun water droplets Past our heads, To sit upon our pillows, for a moment— Before they sank beneath the surface Settling themselves, into soft warm core. ‘We should make the most of our time- Snow brushed from the air Shuddered down on slab-paths. Singing sounds, electrified and transferred, Fly from our wooden music boxes. Suddenly free. I lie here, morning comes and goes Wherever we are, however I sit, However I try to wake. Nothing is wasted on you. ‘I woke feeling like this, feeling happy… There is no back wall to this I cannot find it. |
i like this piece. i got the feeling that a man and his lover were spending time together and show each other what the other means to them. then for some reason, the guy says that he was happy. key word being 'was'. so what happened to the happiness? ~Zach~ | Posted on 2006-03-22 00:00:00 | by insphered soul | [ Reply to This ] | |