Saturday, October 31, 2009

mehh i don't have a title.

I'm reaching out for you
taking four steps back
trying to let you catch up
trying to bring you home

but the lavender keeps growing
and your name remains on my lips
the cicadas are singing a reunion
the sun is a burning gold

my hair is singed
my heart is heavy
i've told you a million times over

you read me no longer,
my dearest
you sing to me in the nighttime
you are gone from me
my dearest

and all that is left
is a cup of bittersweet tea
filled with crushed,
bruised leaves.

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