Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Getting Old

the walls are the same color as the ground
the air sits still in your mouth
come back, turn back around
turn back around

each morning I wake you up, pick you up
spin you around
you don't make a sound
won't make a sound

should I pin down your shoulders?
It's only when I want it
that your heat smolders
am I still getting older?

you must have hit pause
because we haven't moved
just made a bruise
cut me loose

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