On Something

Her lips cracked the wind, when she spoken…

The unsorted open pit…

Now I’m hungry…

Or should I say hunger…

For… more… Of… her…

Her presence is a lesson…

To stick around for some…

Like wise convo understood like…

One of those love novels…

Favorites you pick…

We sit on Dimond layered, layed back on pillars…

Smothered with stars and chuckles…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night ties a knot in the sky…

Wringing out the stars…

All over us….

So slow like a mash Mello drown in bath bathwater…

Sinking to the botton of it…

Understanding her touching hands…

I grip to her understanding across mathmatics…

Braille systems…

 

 

 

 

 

“I love to be challenged…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sign language that I never seen…

I felt it…

I know I may not make sence…

Yet I understand like table legs…

Twisting fingers…

Interlocking in…

Like gang signs…

 

 

 

 

 

“what hood you from?”

 

 

 

 

 

Her kryptonite night ingredience……..

I’m supermans weakness……

One thought on “On Something

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