fourohfckingfiveam

drive until you feel what is real,

and you’ll know what makes you a fool.

tamed wild;

tired smiles, and bruises on your feet.

a ribcage bouquet; the washed out watercolors of

irises, orchids,

forget-me-nots.

the charcoal curve of an eyelash;

cheek on cheek.

your heartbeat,

you write symphonies in imagery,

a portrait lusting for my imagination,

pressing against my heartstrings.

a silver drizzle twists its way around our

silver silhouettes;

kissing every inch of fingertip, 

and nose,

a lesson in the surreal.

it’s rained for days, and once again

restless drops rustle me from my dreams,

the sleepy streetlights cast an amber glow

upon the cold room’s corners:

what i’d give to capture the moon,

and you.