(no subject)
Kamikaze wind spilling from my lungs
Every time I say goodbye
We know where this is going
A flock of hollow boned promises
A baseball park smile
A homeless teenager with greasy hair places her handful of change in my pocket
She asks me for nothing, she is backwards and speckled with dirt
She is just another example of youthful desire
And we are home
We are home runs
Heading out we are above an applauding crowd greedy for another hit
Another run
another first plate
we are tomorrows desire
I remember every blueberry morning toast spread
Every thistle stuck in my thumb
Every lamp post and every heirloom shapes me into some petrified bonsai tree
Stagnant and desiring flesh
like my stone coffin house wasn't enough because
this is not
Every time I say goodbye
We know where this is going
A flock of hollow boned promises
A baseball park smile
A homeless teenager with greasy hair places her handful of change in my pocket
She asks me for nothing, she is backwards and speckled with dirt
She is just another example of youthful desire
And we are home
We are home runs
Heading out we are above an applauding crowd greedy for another hit
Another run
another first plate
we are tomorrows desire
I remember every blueberry morning toast spread
Every thistle stuck in my thumb
Every lamp post and every heirloom shapes me into some petrified bonsai tree
Stagnant and desiring flesh
like my stone coffin house wasn't enough because
this is not