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November MAG
My throat is tight from the
snickering cold wind that waltzes
around us
in spite, we push against its
wingtipped shoes and cherry blossom corsages
freckled grass and tan oak trees are humming along
to this icy orchestration
are we the only ones who hear the syncopation
of a thousand curling cumuli
or a million bursting moons?
this deafening lull is what binds our
quivering legs and willowed arms to these silent screams
we cry
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This article has 7 comments.
I really enjoyed it.
Lovely poem darling =]
-Please check out the works that I have posted on here it would be highly appreciated and I think you would greatly enjoy them, Thankk youz-
XxThe Whole Time You Were Talking I Didnt Hear A Single Word You Said B/C Th3 Whole Time You Were Talking I Was Picturing You DeadXx
-AndThisIsReal
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Favorite Quote:
"when you cry, do you waste your tears?" Madonna