asklepiades (asklepiades) wrote,


Troubled fingers on a hand of gold,
speak the language of your heart and leave the context on the centerfold.
The trial of too many kisses.
Wishing that instead were wishes,
telling you the story you already believe.
But need to hear.
Filling all the air with beauty without sadness
and taking all the air away.

Crossing arms and crossing hearts,
promises and the break apart.
Love was never in the having.
I only loved you when our lives were done.

with you I crossed the ocean,
I pulled into your shirt to smell the salty air.
the day was hot and buoyant,
it rattled in bones and it beat upon our brows.
I cried out at the sight of you
You parched my lips and drew down sticky blood of mine
We couldn't get enough of time
to wear each other out.

Lying sapped and languid on some beams
the sky never cleared
and the storms kept coming out.

When I begin to expect one thing,
I lean on that expectation hard and never learn.

but bruises are like dusty streets
and I keep walking down the worst of them
looking for another town
another chance for us to meet.

you read a book or take a smoke
and I remember why I always forget
to leave.
to listen to the memories.
instead I sit down with an easel between autumn trees
and paint the change
that happens every year.

  • Let's just live it.

    The quiet lies - we don't need to talk about it anymore Don't need to figure out the truth Don't need to look inside our heads and in our hearts…

  • (no subject)

    I was wrong.

  • (no subject)

    Everytime someone died. color and breath, the fast unfurl of carbon away from death plants that rise and grow, strange citybomb beneath…

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