xxo


ten hundred porcelain





tell the doctor this
tell him i flew over st. cloud and began missing you
before we even met.

tell him
i missed you like crazy,
i heard you buzzing in my window seat
i heard your ghost coming along my way
i heard the sound of your lips slowly separate from mine in
one nights eyesight

there were no lights and only the neon provided
by the moment
gave a sigh of relief and static electricity and a
white hot series of ten hundred shudders.




Poetry by sk kenworthy
Read 534 times
Written on 2009-10-25 at 01:32

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