see my fingers run back and forth

163 6 3
                                    

should i forget my place,
come pour a dream on me
that has no measure; sing
a louder sun is here

and rest where stars have hung
their every kindled breath
for universe is storm,
your sky is an umbrella.

with caution kindly sleep
and give your sight away;
remind me of these lungs
when all i have are dreams,

and from it i should wake
to find my ache its peace
when promised not to breathe,
should i forget my place.

— A. P.

Accidents: A Collection of PoetryWo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt