The swaying of the train
Mind outta of body
While my head rest upon the cold
Siddhartha in lap
Patched up in chrysalis haven
My innermost is to dwell with YOU
A tree of fire
A curve of collarbone
A precious gossamer float
Enraptured always by the brazen words of Oberst
In the wavy moonlit movable waters
A secret want
A holiness to fingertips
YOU reveal my deficiency
My entirety, awaits in another expansion
Poem/Naomi Print/Vija Celmins/Music/Conor Oberst
Painful, the wisps, of our parting ways.
Yes, a sentient being, I must be. Yes, being sentience, is a must now.
In these spring winds, you cross to European grounds. Bonjour, coming from their floral mouths, and Cafe zealous from your tenth cup. You’re worth every last drop. She must know this by now!
My western sky is dull, even though we rise to the same sun and rest to the same moon; sombre clouds got in the way. When you return, I must resist being the pearl, near your skin, salvaging my own luster.
Poem: Naomi Ruth S. Images: Blended Pinterest