literature

Paper Ships

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Literature Text

We were children
setting paper sailboats in sidewalk streams,
trying to catch them before the gutter;
We never really knew where we were going
but we went anyway,
amid washed out skies and white out clouds,
some words could not be silenced
despite the muting of our tangled tongues.

Stars slither like sizzling islands of butter
over the crest of your hip
where I hunger to sink my teeth into the flesh
and taste you - dripping
saccharine and sultry down my throat,
over my fingertips,
licked clean yet still perfumed
with the salty-skinned scent of your undulations.

Meaningless hours spent in dark spaces
where the world couldn't see through your bones,
all the time I spent inside
I may have been another loose-lief ship
sailing toward an unknown chasm,
as interchangeable as the color of your nails,
brush me away,
another stroke of adoring pink to veil my shape.

I keep searching in all the usual spots
for signs of your direction,
remnants of your body that might guide me
to a space where you still exist,
and though I love you and imagine you
like a child shaping angels in the snow
I know the ice is melting
and my shoes are beginning to get wet.

So we lie like lovers always do,
tangled up in webs of satin and silk,
a jutting shore of bent limbs
never so revered as when it was lost,
and I am screaming like a ghost along the moors
as you fall into the waves,
so we can become fading, watercolor portraits
of a life that never was.
insomniac architects of a dream world
too painful to revisit and too beautiful to raze.
How many beautiful things must die before a hand is moved to stop the bleeding.
© 2014 - 2024 dreamsinstatic
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