For Granted.

She spent summers sunken into the grooves of his muted being.

Pressed against his chest where the rest of the world grew quiet. Silent. Noiseless. Where everything was still. If she listened hard enough, she might hear the rings sing around Saturn.

No rhythms, no songs, no motion, no harmonies. Wanted to drum her fingertips against his lips to feel a pattern. Yet not even her thoughts moved…

But he knew when she grew away, she’d hear melodies, and find reasons to unnoticed rhyming things in her memories.

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Time Out.

I was in love with you

yesterday.

I was reliving the day before

yesterday.

I was dreaming of tomorrow

yesterday.

Today, I wish I knew that tomorrow was only a day away.

I would have found a way to turn time into space.

I would have made the sun stay in its place.

Please don’t move…It’s too soon.

I would have turned every clock that ticks into something toxic.

Turned watches into handcuffs.. attach them to the hour and lock it.

Glued down the Earth’s axis and make the day stick.

bring yesterday

into today

or turn today into

yesterday

just so I can lay

beside you and remember when tomorrow was not the day

everything would change.

It was simply just a day away.

Sparks

They could breathe fire when things transpired.

Much more than drama…

They spit lava on top of the trauma.

Flames fly and blaze lies.

Smoke swells when flames die.

Slept in ashes. Rolled in dust.

Incinerated trust.

Faith obliterated from doubts reinterred. Any sudden motions triggered explosions.

But so afraid of being frozen…

Watched elders grown old in a love that grew cold.

Quivering hearts in ice covered mold.

So they Singed bridges and scorched buildings.

Dragons dragging damage down deadly ditches.

Burning blessings and mistaking stresses for life lessons.

Never weary of defeat

They fell in love with the heat

And burned in peace.

Memory Foam

memoryfoam__woman_lying_down

None of his words, she memorized.

She didn’t have to. They were printed on her skull. She can recite them anytime.

Almost as if She can find his hand prints in random places. Her lungs. Her thighs. Shoulders. Mind. His fingerprints left at the scene of the crime.

Her neck permanently tilted from sleeping with her head on his chest. The outline of his face, carved between her breast.

Her hips still adjusted to the width of his waist. Laying across him, covering every inch like the stars in space.

Her toes curl up like they did behind his knee cap. Her back still arched from sitting in his lap.

Her arm always twists like its wrapping around the sides of this man. Their arms laced together like a beautiful long band. Her fingers still curved like they’re holding his hand.

The butterflies are dead. The Stars have fallen. But her body has not forgotten.
Thought she’d forget when he was long gone.

She didn’t notice until she was alone.
Her whole entire being was nothing more than Memory Foam.