creepin between the skies with me
we can rest there
hands in each others'hair
knowing that it's okay
the sun won't break up
the open, drifting,dreaming feeling
we hold onto
as if we're drowning
we are in those openskies
they want to swallow all we have
but we can slip beyond them
andvanish into the edges
of our fingertips
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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