"...But to me the darkness was red-gold and crocus-coloured, With your brightness, And the words you whispered to me, Sprang up and flamed—orange torches against the rain. Torches against the wall of cool, silver rain!" ---Summer Rain, Amy Lowell
maybe everyone I thought was my soulmate
was just a mirror image of myself
waving back at me
and the way we speak is just
a reference point, radios bouncing
signals off each other
Post a Comment
No comments:
Post a Comment