I.
i remember my hands in your pockets
sweeping dreams in the seams
and fingers curling --
wrist turned, i tried to get your attention,
and smiling up at you
feel my touch up your thigh --
dreaming out of the window,
we see cars fading like stars with distance --
II.
my flesh peels back
with soft peach down soaking
and i smile, half-hearted,
wonder when it'll be
that i unfold and undo myself
completely -- maybe --
look down to my hands
feel my empty mouth ;thinking;
i would wash it out with soap and bleach
and see clearly:
(23/02/2107)
YOU ARE READING
THE OCEAN
Poetry'In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a little dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it and spread, black shadows moved about in them, the roar of the beasts of prey was quite different now, and...
