can you hear my very heartbeat
cross the intersections,
where my fingertips
trace skylines that inch closer
while we sleep,
where the clouds are punctured
on needle spires,
where my eyes reflect naught
but towers of mirrored glass?
can you hear my very heartbeats
over the steady flow of cars,
where the people all whisper
that an incandescent sun
could never drive away this dark,
where i wear dancing headlights
but taste only exhaust,
where the world may turn
but who should see it?
cross the intersections,
where my fingertips
trace skylines that inch closer
while we sleep,
where the clouds are punctured
on needle spires,
where my eyes reflect naught
but towers of mirrored glass?
can you hear my very heartbeats
over the steady flow of cars,
where the people all whisper
that an incandescent sun
could never drive away this dark,
where i wear dancing headlights
but taste only exhaust,
where the world may turn
but who should see it?
LexusMarie
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