Monday, October 31, 2011

Day 832: distance

she is sandstorm eyes
whitewash lips
stanzas stuck to the back of her throat
lines tracing off into eternity
a song waiting to be written
a poem in process
every part of me that moves starts somewhere under her skin

i am callouses on my knuckles and palms
a song burnt into every one
heart full of growth
a body pushed to burst
love left in the liner notes
a secret scratched into the margins
a kiss for her tomorrow
a new promise

together we are half a body of goosebumps
a moleskin full of dreams
3 kids and a backyard
short walks during sunrise
afternoon naps
a bent fretboard
music everywhere

someday maybe even a completed poem

1 comment:

  1. This poem really holds the essence of what your feeling in a simple but powerful way. Even if people come and go, you will always have your voice, remember that.