The space between the sheets and the roof
is skied by red umbrellas,blowing away
in the wind that passes between your legs
My face shudders like a tin can
kept out in the rain,
in which i preserved myself
all this time,it took you to gather love
from underneath my tears
Your hands remind me of fresh autumn
slinking tepidly along my spine
kissing flowers that now grow out of me
In your eyes i find constant hate
for the morning,cut into pieces
as little white crystals that i
drink,mixed with your new found nubility
as i glide from one side to the other
with you as my vessel
is skied by red umbrellas,blowing away
in the wind that passes between your legs
My face shudders like a tin can
kept out in the rain,
in which i preserved myself
all this time,it took you to gather love
from underneath my tears
Your hands remind me of fresh autumn
slinking tepidly along my spine
kissing flowers that now grow out of me
In your eyes i find constant hate
for the morning,cut into pieces
as little white crystals that i
drink,mixed with your new found nubility
as i glide from one side to the other
with you as my vessel
and to think....there are some people
ReplyDeletewho make love...sans any love
~Aindrila
I remember how everything became an instrument after I saw STOMP. My hand, everything within reach of my hand. My eyelashes flitting against my sun glasses. The wiper blades. And to hear this sonata was so very pleasing. YOUR instruments, strung together so beautifully.
ReplyDelete@WineandWords-I absolutely love Stomp...you can't be sure whether you create the music or the music dictates you
ReplyDelete~Aindrila
Cuculus,
ReplyDeletehave you been away or around ?
Annie,
ReplyDeleteI may require some learning about what or who STOMP is?....pardon my infancy in this particular scenario..
strange, i find an argument here between love and sex, i'm not sure i even see them as allies in this.
ReplyDeletei think it's because i don't trust her nubility
Rick