Thursday, 14 October 2010

Capsulated

A silent jade waterfall slaps upon the pavement, dragging wedding trumpets in its wake.
Like listening to Nina Simone under drowsy lights and slogging my feet in romantic circles.
Like the rattle of pubescent voices dancing on the pages of my book in a public plastic cart.
Like getting stuck in the sand at the seaside and rolling in and out of the rusty copper ocean.
The crawling creepers drip into the cracks in the walls, searching for hidden jewels or gold.
Like an unprepared disposition of an unintended kiss you couldn’t stop, but don’t even care.
Like running along the sunset and waiting for the stars to blind your senses beyond awestruck.
Like walking with a cat’s back and jumping with her dainty ready paws to fly away from home.

No comments:

Post a Comment