are you asleep?
who are you, really?
what are you?
-
She sleeps on the horizon
draped in lavender
and she sings in her dreams
of dames in Long Island
as they swim in sync around her
Another pale blue sky loses its pride
and there's no telling what she'll do without it
Punctured with a sigh
Punctured with a sigh
She turns to the mirror and says
"I'll never speak again. I'll never love again
I'll never speak again. I'll never love again
I'll never speak again. I'll never love again
I'll never speak again. I'll never love again"
About the Creator
Justin
Storyteller, artist, musician, designer.
She loves me
She loved me. When I was small and my wee stayed to the paper. When I was rumpled skin and floppy big paws and big eyes looking up and waiting for her hands to find me, scooping me up and bringing me into her. And we were happy, so happy, so very, very happy. I was so happy to see her and danced my circles so she'd know how much I wanted nothing more than for her to hold me. I'd wrap, wiggle, wiggle and wrap my growing body with my bestest happy dance, slumping and kerplumping into her warm parts just like she liked me to. She was there and I was there, and we were there together, and it was perfect. Oh, how she loved me! We spent all our time together, playing inside, outside, up, down, going round and round. And she petted me and called me good girl when I made poops, and sometimes when I weed in her front yard or the neighbor's, and I was the best girl. For her, I really was! And she scratched me behind my ears, and it was heaven. I aowooo my joy! And she aowoooed hers too.
By Christy Munson6 days ago in Fiction
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