Untitled 11

January 29, 2009
More by this author
dreaming of your face asleep.
those little pinpricks of pigment.
the crease in the bridge of your nose
i deemed to be cute.
the soft slope of your slack muscles
curling yellow lashes over moodring green eyes.
and you are still a boy

i couldn't sleep
so i dosed myself with lavander lotion
and sappy love songs
only thing more poetic
would be a lazy haze
lingering on my bone sinew
but each nerve
each breath
(cold air against the spaces

between my teeth)
i woke up at 3 am
holding onto my pillow

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback