[untitled]

 

In the end everything’s let go in soft

dandelion breaths

without stuttering volumes of silly tear written

accepting journals.

 

They wear fingertips smooth following lines

read silent and shrieking tiredcreakingcreeping

under small spaces, scraps of room

cracking dry under rooves, behind squeaking doors.

 

Lips twitch

that would switch in a moment one monumental moment

of dead last century never once believing  

someday would be less.

 

That today might never exist softly as a kiss.

 

There it was, misspelled confused corps of a dream;

you wrote songs and we?  We walked away

still smiling, finding peace

bounced through canyons, bleeding wide canyons.

Reviews

[Isolophobe]

Ah, can't say anything but perfect. Great opening line. Gruesome, even.

[deeps]

I loved this one, I love the part of
"I became misspellings and jumbled words"
Very well said, this is a wonderful write here.