loitering illegally in the graveyard
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a poetry book dedicated to every cell in your body
@timespieces
Copyright 2017
—let's not end this on a low note i would fly to the tops of trees and to the tip of your nose if that means we can be tall and i am so often small so it would mean every moon to me if we could bask in this a little bit longer
toes go numb but we've still got the feeling rust in the air but this rain leaves me dreaming what of my heart i've got none nor one oil slick blood and i'm cold to the touch
strongheart, where have you gone? i would follow but my body is hollow and so it seems was your promise to stay gifted me nothing but aching armor after you stole my heart away
Inexplicably yours, RB
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