These are white walls of fog banks
Divided by difference in opinion
Grey mist and barriers forming white
Lines of defense
We are white powdered
Sugar sweet and seething
Writhing lines, sharp inhalation
And exhale into exhaust
Tired steam stemming trails out behind us
Pinpoint the place where apples started transforming
White distances and
Disappearing horizons, suddenly we find we cant find each other
Discovering silent spaces, doors all closed, blank faces
White lies disappear in a cloud of smoke
Evaporating into the atmosphere
About Me
- salsa_estrella
- Another carbon based life form, who spends way too much time online.
1 comment:
This feels like a response to my "If I run away" poem. Probably isn't, but it feels like that. I lalalike it.
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