Sunday, March 12, 2017

Silence like a Speakeasy

Hey there dear
Who sits with the night
Watching the shadows in pale moonlight
You are strange, and it is pleasing to see
A silence that feels like a speakeasy
If we dance
But you turn to ash
Like dusty sand poured on wet grass
The dismay that fills my eyes
Is like the way a child cries
Wash me up on jagged shores
Pour lava where we meet no more
The world erodes a bridge in time
Yet by then our wings we’ll find
And then for sure we’ll soar
So high
Or die.
And be woven back into black vastness
The empty cavern night sky
I drove home before
sunrise made the sky small again


Art by - Nymphadora - T