Thread


The sinking horizon,
With its cornflower blues and
Bursting fuchsias and
Dancing vibrant salmons
It's the work of a genius from an era long forgotten and
It's every color of our too human souls
Clouded with love,
Every single
Word
Thought
Feeling
I could never breathe life into
Without fucking up,
Bursting painfully out of my chest and
Into your trusting hands, clenching tight as
You wrap your calloused fingers around
The red silken threads
The very same hands that hold all my pieces together,
The hands that steer us, steer this old muscle car
Across the bursting landscape and
Across the red dirt and
Dark asphalt and
Crunching gravel
Across it all and into the starry unknown
Where fate is swallowed whole
Like a flame under a thumb

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem