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Gravel MAG
January 6, 2014
Your love is gravel.
rough, uneven,
in varying shades of darkness,
countless places to riddle.
A wanderer –
The loose-jointed meanderer,
with nowhere to be and no one to
see.
From you I am swollen,
scraped and bruised –
But, oh, how the sound of
falling swells in such a lovely shade of blue
in my mind.
Every space in my spine
aching for the crunch of gravel,
yearning for the pebbling
reverberation
of upcoming ground and downfallen limbs.
A request,
wreckless and listless:
Gravel against my bones.
© Kelsie L., Sun City, AZ
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