icing sugar powders
window-
lips blow
clearing glass,
as it fogs up
before my
eyes,
she claim clouds
don’t last.
Author: grumpygorman
gently grasp my
hand
and drag me
back
to where our sweet
spills freely,
in light of deep
trust–
where we talk through
thoughts that
plague
us.
a pill for
grief
rests on a table,
in a cup,
poured into
a hand
in the center of
a room
where no one feels
a thing.
i watched as steam
rose from your
palms–
extended towards
the void
and knew you had summoned life
from beyond any myth
we had learned.
like top shelf chocolate
dripping on the
tongue,
i’ve tasted
dark
and wanted
more
to coat my mouth in
velvet warmth,
to quell all future
cravings.
a
kiss
breaks up the
fight
like pink doves
landing
in the middle of
a minefield
as temporary
truce.
crystals twinkling
on boughs,
my face breathing
frost..
all over the
room,
as dawn appears
dazzling
to thaw us from
tomb.
mother and i were
so alike
that we wouldn’t notice
one another
through our wall of
behaviors,
held apart at
unbreachable distance
while both yearned
for similar.
her head filled the
pillow with
dream
and her body remembered
the running
her lips,
the moisture–
soothed by the scent of
an ethereal
lover
while resting
covered.
she came from a
shambles
town
but spoke of it
like eden,
and gushed about
the green
space
that would hold her
like lovers
never
did
alongside a stream that
would take
her
to where no worry
was welcome
and no trouble
would follow.
hands in the garden 
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