Read My Lips |
Forest:
You slash and burn my limbs, all desparate for a piece of my body. I'm forced to watch your reckless lives unfold as I'm shaped into all the excess things you chain me for. I feel your ink against my flesh as you try to capture the magnitude of human fallibility in your novels, but somehow forget to look down at the saw clenched between your hands.
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I clutch onto the ballon.
My feet dangle, as they skim over fluffy specks of dust I tie the string around my hand and promise to never let it go. Just my balloon and me. It catches onto a slight breeze, bobbing and weaving past razor sharp mountains. My heart rockets, ready to blast off into the horizon. Complete bliss fueling the engine. But all it takes is a single branch, beneath the bustle of green blades, to pop what is fragile. Flimsy string slips from my grip as I plummet back to planet Earth. Sun:
I rouse them from their sleep with gentle kisses. Their petals unfurl against my glare. I promise to always return. For they should never dread the dark. Boy: I envision the dimples that will illuminate her cheeks when the whiff of summer infuses her senses. Dainty buds always blossom with time. Husband: When she sniffs the sweet fragrance will the years of forgetting and empty silence become a distant blur? Can it buy us back our youth and erase the fine lines creased across our brows? Will it stand as a remembrance that life requires more than sunlight and water to really consider one alive? |
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May 2019
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