July 2, 2012
I do not know the sound of the ocean, beating through your eyes
The notes within the dark evoke a melody
Like you’ve been lost before
And wept for my soul
The white moth trickles down my mind
He wants me to know
I know
From the lucid breathing to the way my grasp shakes when I hold you
My throat wrenches itself from my body
As your blanket falls tattered around me
My heart crashes but will not break against the steamy asphalt
Its turning sensations leave me with numbness
Similar to the unsuspecting faces in the old graveyard
But the sand is to the ocean as my palm is to your hand

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