everything slow, nothing remembered,
slow motion, but skipping like a bad tape.
insightful and developed,
the world was so many shades of white.
our breaths, masks against the cold night,
the stars brought the sky to me,
the ground, so far down.
can't speak, breathing unconscious.
sinking into the leather and cloth.
recurring images, park.
button up, whir of gears, destination high.
No comments:
Post a Comment