Stream of consciousness


What are we going to do with all this love?

I ought to call it mine.

But honestly I ought to scratch the sky open

and dream something worth writing down

and work a miracle rather than pleading for one

and listen to the song that breaks my own heart

and feel so much something in me explodes

and do a lot of things

I might never do.

I’m left seeing blue in half a world,

I am not here to beat as loud as she does,

she breathes in a window and blows out a supernova.

as she pulls from me I feel the lifeline stretch.

We turn to dust, to gold,


she glitters the same.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/14/17

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