SmokeI remember those nights we spent All those years ago-- Together and alone.Smoke
We would sit on the
Rooftops in the starlight, Smoking cheap cigars And painting the summer haze With the names of the
Boys and girls who'd done us wrong.
We told ourselves we didn't
Need them as we Blew smoke rings over the city Like silent prayers, Hoping
They would settle on the sleeping form Of the other half of our souls.
ForwardIt is smoke and mirrors And siren song; The heat-ocean That boils up from the sand And sparkles in the sun, The fleeting scent Of spice-market treasures Pressed into the tongue.Forward
Tie me to the mast, friend, Strip me of my fear And bind my hands with resolve So I may journey on, Sailing my dune-ship Into the impossible.
Thing A Day: Day 7... belated.I am Tantalus drowning dry As I slip beneath the Surface of the air, Shrouded in the ghosts of Breath I cannot catch.Thing A Day: Day 7... belated.
The wave of silence Floods me, Pounds through my veins And unravels my brain, Threading me out of my skin To graze the knife-edge Of darkness.
And still I struggle, Until the light bears down on me And I break the surface, Ice-cold and gasping.
Thing-A-Day
Zeal
--
>engage.
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~photographyclub=indiephotographyclub
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:memento mori:
--
If you don't have legs - run
If you don't have voice - scream
If you don't have hope - invent!
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