Waiting for a Misfire.

We're scrawled dreams in pencil crayons, because nothing's black and white. We're breathless silences and laughter tumbling through dull days. We're pulses ricocheting between rib bones. We're tears spilled and tasted on each others lips, we're pinked cheeks and kisses soothing the sting. We're the glow in a dark room that lights just enough to see pupils dilate, we're whispers lost in shadows, promises aimed at the sky.  And

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You're the dreams tugging my heart through starless skies, you're stringing silver along my horizons. You're leaping feet first through moonbeams, watching stars fall behind my iris. You're flipping switches and turning dials, you're waiting for a misfire. You're tracing explosions against my spine, you're lighting fuses just to see me glow. And

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I'm picking the stitches binding my heart to my sleeve, I know it would feel more at home in the palm of your hand, or pressed underneath your tongue. I'm dipping fingertips into lapping waves, and I'm pulling out seashells whispering saltwater sonnets. I'm counting the grains of sand clung to your cheeks, and I'm walking backwards into deep waters. I'm not scared to forget how to breathe. And

-

We're pulling each other apart, and filling lanterns with lighter-than-air memories, We're tossing them into the night and watching as they ignite.

Reviews

[TopHatGirl]

I love all of the similes in this poem. Each one very powerful, very well thought out. I'm not a fan of this format though, looks more like a story. I love the last line. You're very talented.