collide with me,
in a cycle sustained by memories,
which fade like the coffee stains
on the kitchen table,
but are engraved so deeply in our minds,
that we can't forget.
collide with me,
in a breeze carrying us along,
until it becomes a hurricane
and the stones, and darkness
hurled at us
force us to leave.
collide with me,
until we are set free.
YOU ARE READING
set free
Poetrya cluster of thoughts, hidden below the very folds of my subconscious
