LOTS OF RED, LIKE
A LUSCIOUS HEART
So. When I think of you it's like that. I can't
dismember what I try to remember, and I
wouldn't want to anyway. This morning, the
thrush were running through the cemetery
stones - all that trimmed grass and perfectly-
placed flowers. It's always enough to tear me
up. Then the sun arose, and it began to light
up names. Vacant and vapid, void and valid.
Stuff like that. I swear I saw ghosts rising as
well, and I swear one came over to me and
kissed me. And I swear it was you.
So. When I think of you it's like that. I can't
dismember what I try to remember, and I
wouldn't want to anyway. This morning, the
thrush were running through the cemetery
stones - all that trimmed grass and perfectly-
placed flowers. It's always enough to tear me
up. Then the sun arose, and it began to light
up names. Vacant and vapid, void and valid.
Stuff like that. I swear I saw ghosts rising as
well, and I swear one came over to me and
kissed me. And I swear it was you.
No comments:
Post a Comment