i smoke nails in red light
dreaming of another life
where i'm allowed to follow
that path of freckles
trailing along
your golden arm,
while your eyes are closed
in the quiet cave of sleep,
and you dream about me differently.
while we are the sum
of what we've been given,
we're also the sum
of what's been taken,
and of what we'll never receive,
like the chance to
whisper into your throat
ever so softly.
now i'm getting better
at drawing shades
across the window
resting upon my chest,
but every once in awhile
i have to let some light in,
and the sound of your name
has always burned so brightly.
My brother says I have to keep the bright lights on to make me more happy instead of candles and twinklings. It was a nice thought.
ReplyDelete"we're also the sum of what's being taken, and of what we'll never receive" - but what the sum of what's being given are the chances we don't believe we have until we blink and it's gone.
ReplyDelete