Thinking, contemplating my current situation. Scared. The lights of the city are turning down. From this view I can see everything. I’m watching her come down for the night. Helping me to not come down alone. Slowly, dying together. From here I could almost fly, and I wish I could. I want to spread my arms and soar over her, my fingers reaching out to caress her as she drifts to sleep. From here I could hold her, I’m wanting her to hold me. A warm embrace. Bathed in the light that she burns in the cold air of evening. The city that surrounds me. But it won’t happen.. I can’t fly. I can only fall. And though I know this, I’m standing on a ledge.
She stands and waits in her wedding gown Like white clouds Floating on her, she walks around she looks out of her window pane Wishing he will come to see her again The broken promise they can mend The fear
The name calls the name spraying the moon with red colour. It touches a nerve, when there is standoff on the lake. A blueish eye invades an iron space between near solids of docks. The gap was widening and the
Poetry wound and a large schism starts an invasion. Numbness pours out. You become nobody; depart without a farewell. A crazy word is lost and a delirious search is initiated. Bit by bit coexistence is found between the sheets. Unwrap
In the midst of conversation A question rose out of the blue, What would I do if such opportunity were to arise. In a conversation about long term goals without hesitation or notion Without any specifics given to her question