I am tired to the bone core of the bone the inside bits of the bone that move blood all around
and help you grow and breathe
I am tired to there
Friends, old, old friends
who knew me when
I was more myself but a little less like me
are a reminder that the trees sing to the stars
without mouths or ears or eyes
to touch or dance
close into the moments that collapse on top of one another
drowning in oxygen debt
arms push pulling me
and my eyes have gravel in the lids
and my skin moves over my bones
a little loose with a little extra room
at the elbows and knees
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