behold, the only valid mood chart
darling, you laugh
when I speak of hunger, but
I am speaking of firelight; woodsmoke,
memories made fuzzy with time
and not exhaustion that swallows me whole
I was always envious of love letters
pockets of raw emotion, honeydew-eyes and
bandaged knees, whisper by
the bench and entwine one hand with
my own, as with the other you
wrench my chest into splinters
bandage the ribs with ivory,
line them with half-truths and your
wilting stalks of rosemary, but
no matter what is done
I will always hear the crash before the sting.
cair--paravel
