Won't you watch the sky purple and bruise with me?
The moon's yellow tonight, and so's the star - the one that looks like Jupiter.
The clouds are smoke, tinged red at the edges like blood blooming in the lake.
The towers blink in the distance - do they ever stop? - to the beat of my heart.
The breeze whispers a ballet between the tree branches, creating a dance of breath.
Won't you lean into my arm resting on your waist?
My fingertips along your jaw?
Your eyelashes flutter.
Dawn breaks.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Dreams
PoetryA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
