A-m (umopapisdn) wrote,

on nights such as these
even as the wind blows
snow hard crashing against frosted pane
I can hear the seagulls' lullabye
and a small candle flicker of a smile
creeps from centre of my chest
rosy fire warmth
lights my daydreams with desire and fond remembrance
of season's which on sunnier days
seem closer to me than your voice on the phone
fading fast from my memory
like your scent from my sweater
or the dog-eared pages of a book you loaned me once
and even though I gorge myself
on sweet words and confident poses
wearing someone else's beauty
painting my skin with licks and kisses and moans
I hunger
yet a thousand words
penned on a thousand postcards
written in a thousand codes
conjured by a thousand brilliant minds
cannot yet begin to describe the thousand ways
my dreamself ravages
the single square inch of your left inner wrist
or perhaps its five acres of newly turned soil
heaved open and raw
expecting the rain to honour it
as a mother continues to rock her baby
long after anger has wound her in headache
on nights such as these
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