poetry

between the two of us

you are like the wind on a
mountain, your voice is supple.
it weaves through my old furniture
in the house.

my heavy pauses frustrate you.
when I plod from point-to-point
you are already riding rapids
in the rain.

I don’t think it will work out
between the two of us. I sit on
my sofa like a comfortable crab
your hands dance towards the
ceiling, parting curtains
hanging paintings

your fingers stroke the pulse of
sunlight, and my
eyes are buried in a book.

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

Standard
poetry

days escape [untitled]

days escape

people teardrop onto the street, life throbs
conversation cigarettes from hand to mouth to laugh
mountains circle the town like an old stain
monument and mass watches me like a
steady shadow it clings to my conscience
with words you lost and a girl i remember

barely
between breaths
riding waves of wine and ripples of your smile
our stares coagulate
our souls drunk on their own geometry

your eyes are full of music
a song flows into my bones
you lean into me
i tell you my name
we hug and you bury your breasts
into the tide of my smile

your speech is thick
a young river trying to find itself
the night is old…you are still young
wine weighs on your words

i want you to get home to your bed
but you are still sketched in my head
a warm hand pours into me
your eyes tell me you will be back

words stir
our hands separate

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

Standard