"For words have the power to disperse the shadows from around the objects they name. Even if it's compromised in everyday life, language often retains only what is pure."
Darling, I'm sorry we can't stuff our insides into white clouds so maybe our insides could be something beautiful and far away. But the space above your clavicle still feels like home, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed for kaleidoscope colors.
Out on the open road, the sky spills confetti into monochrome eyes; in the silence of the swirl, you learn what it's really like to breathe.
(Did you/I know I/you can swallow sunshine in the desert air?)
Soft whispers in the haze of dusk;
From blue to orange to purple to (in spite of everything) you, and you, and you.
Music
xx
