Over Everything
Apr. 3rd, 2022 06:17 pmI miss bad poetry, trying
to fit the words into the curve
of your hip, of your smile, the first time
you turned around, and the sun came
up, over everything. I still feel
your arms around me, sometimes, standing
at that rail, with the city spread out below
us, like birds on a wire,
everything ours,
if we just took flight.
to fit the words into the curve
of your hip, of your smile, the first time
you turned around, and the sun came
up, over everything. I still feel
your arms around me, sometimes, standing
at that rail, with the city spread out below
us, like birds on a wire,
everything ours,
if we just took flight.