Organic Thoughts, Uncategorized, Wide-Eyed Spasms

My Only House

She wears her hair the way she thinks

I love

the sound her breath

emits the stars,

my floating vessel,

ajar under ceiling stains.

 

I’ve slipped away in smiles,

she glides my helpless nothing.

In her velvet I purr.

 

You found me after the bombs stopped.

Open wounds, lollipops,

crashed cars, holy walls,

nonstop

hotshot,

the creaks from every corner of every room that warm my depths

in your house

is my everything.

 

Tell me dear,

will you wander with me a while?

 

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2 thoughts on “My Only House

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