August 18, 2014

you were here.



to be backwards through a hole 
is courageous.
back first
eyes to the orange trees
the sun sounds like a crying violin

i want to wrap my lips around your sad eyes
draw out your tears
slow like a needle and thread
shaky hands sew up my mouth

i don't know why i am.
or where i will.

if i let you block out sounds of the sun
and close my eyes
i can be courageous.

you are black, flat, thin
your shadow is where i might be.

the edge of the end

holds us.