Sweet Skies

A pale blue heart lingering to feed the tears

with a love deep enough to drown the waves in the ocean,

I dance to the abstraction of you,

so when I damage,

I am a mirage of you,

so when I cry,

I am unscathed warm for you,

so when I sleep,

I think of you,

so when I tremble,

I am the boat that missed the beacon light back to land,

so when I fall,

I do it evenly and break abruptly into

little million different ways of the words I put for you

that painted enough power to demolish the very reasons

why you are remarkable.

 

Some harmless letters leaving your lips

straight into my lughole,

listening for the stars disconnecting the

applauds they put in for the bags we dream in,

and wondering when you grew my grass in color.

Against the December I cultivated that

icicles have beats like the lips that speak

when my tears grow silent,

and I was caught up between

you want to fix me

or

you want to break the things that tried breaking me,

so I will wage my heart, drowning comfortably

in the washed castles on the shore,

so tell me true,

where are you holding all the breaths you

keep taking away from me?

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