i bear the star
on my thigh of when she was younger still,
i bear the arrow heads she rained down
and smile at her still
because, (i know your hands were tied).
ritual was richer still
where she sat on the paper covers
that night and i see where it all led
with the paint on her fingers
and the war on her mind --
she won't smile for you anymore
(i will only smile for me)
the long night finally waking
to her sleep soaked eyes --
and the neon beams still flashing
like way back when (she was slashing
out)
i bear the star of way back when
on my limbs
and she knows it well.
(25/08/2017)
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...
