if this is our last goodbye, promise me you won't forget
how the rain dropped and cooled our skin
bathing in the crumbling façade of remote sunsets
sinking like a weathered stone in lucid dreaming
all those summers we spent talking by the trees
about hopeless dreams remind me we are not infinite
we are stars and dust
time asunder with every heartbeat and every jaded breath
moon filled eventides stick to me like sea urchins
like lichen, like rhymes to my flesh
a little box of memories piercing through me like radio static
I never want this song to end.
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Author:
Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 5th, 2022 16:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments1
The image of sticking sea urchins is a sensory overload! Rhyming lichen and radio static raises the bar thereinafter! Quite the delight to read.
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