I come running to you and I see your back towards me, your yellow shirt untucked from your pants, sweat trickling down your face, licking your ears and moving down, down, down where I can't see, your yellow shirt turning wet where the sweat met, your hair flat, your head, raised towards the sun, your legs apart, and you don't turn, you don't turn and I call you, for a bottle of orange juice, give it to me, give it to me, and your shoulders begin to shake, you shake like a bloody bottle waiting to fizzle and now it's my turn to sweat, and I can't wait to hold your gaze but you don't move, you don't go to the fridge next to you and give it to me, you laugh and laugh like I am the biggest joke and you glance at me sideways, I run away from you, run and run to my home, where I come to collect ten notes, ten and ten but I can't find it, and you go, slowly go away from me, from my orange juice, from my mind, blurry, blurry and at last it's the yellow turning white and then it's light, streaming through my windows and now it's my turn to sweat and laugh; laugh and laugh at the joke my mind showed me
dream, dream go away
come again another day
when it's; let's say, may
______
©VioletEden
8thApril2017
YOU ARE READING
Vermillion
PoesieI have been surviving the past few years, counting on my hands, the days taking me, to the impending end. I will not. I will not sacrifice my hands anymore for something so sacrilegious. I color my hands with Vermillion, rub the pages of my noteboo...
