Take a walk with me.
Nothing but
starry comfy shorts and,
milk-white tee.
A walk of fame
over the stony path.
A ruffle in the leaves.
A ghost pulls off the lights,
grafts you over a bark.
Was that a pause in his stormy sea?
Bam! No tee.
Perch up on the roof.
Unnerve the trespassers.
Feel the tremors
heartbeats syncing to footsteps.
The hand of arrhythmia on the shoulder.
Ready for a journey
through the crevice.
A journey to your centre.
Lay beside the rock.
Let him scuffle for the treasure
with a stubble scruffier than the terrain.
They say
wide-open doors are always a trap.
You might want to lock your feet.
no need for a map.
Now if you're following the word
I share the palpitations.
Lips parting.
I can understand the anxiety.
The jaw, tightening.
An open-world setting is well,
It's a lot like betting.
You might want to revisit though;
A white tee is good.
An oversized snuggie is snugglier.
A peck for the collar.
A hug for the rest.
Fingers intertwining into tranquil.
A long French in the trench.
Tell me, wise woman
Where should I stop the train?
On the balance of probability
are we monsters?
are we men?
YOU ARE READING
The Good place
PoesíaThis is a collection of all the poems I've written about everything I'm curious about and more. Literal pitstop is the pen name I write under on WordPress and Instagram.
