Member-only story
O’Water
Lips and fingers were not saying the same name, I am thirsty.
Madame Blanche, felt a cooling effect of the last 30 years.
Is it destiny, is it tragedy?
Blue or Brown it doesn’t matter eyes were seeking for next springtime flowers that dare to grow from the train rails at sub -5 degrees.
Albanian coffee if that’s even a thing, that’s what available around winter pounds of body fat disappear with the wind, wrinkle by wrinkle..
Health issues to fingers since scratching the walls to exit the mind of which the bread and butter have been found, to surrender and preserve the melancholy for later on carry-on carry-on poems.
And Cairo, have not received, not a single couchsurfer, but redirect doubts and atomic hugs back to me, whoever am I!? Shadow exclaimed but there is none, no even teeth to smile or in that matter bite the luck, suspending in the air of foreign oils nourish war machines.
Tomorrow is the birthday of tomorrow, how exciting to count each day as the crow shouts metallic noises around the early dawn of a breeding season, not for you, not for me, anyways.. come closer yellow human.
Sorry, the only thing I see is life in you, my hope to justify a color shade which is not an absolute black or white, but something pale, yet alive, for me to abstractly inspect with my frozen fingers almost, but still warm somehow to give you a calorie spread over days time, maybe a lifetime. We shall never know. Caress me, ocean drown, I wish to submerge into the…
