Outlines

Some days I feel split.

In the pre-dawn lamplight

I remembered your hands,

The gentle taper of your fingers

And the way you held them up

To sketch the outlines of ghosts.

 

In the glow from old movies

We whispered our

Half-faked wishes, and made

Diagrams of our favourite stars.

 

But

I never could make up my mind

To anything.

 

(There was blood on your lip

    Where you bit it in prayer.)

Reviews

[Beatrice Mars]

That last image is amazing, completely juxtaposed to the unrealness of the rest of it...love love love xx