My fingers feel flowers;
Rusted swing chains;
Standard, pale, blue poles;
The touch of people who stay,
But they return to emptiness.
I walk along city streets
And broken pavements which
Water conversations for two
But the darkness is haunting.
The moon asks me for you.
I remember those rough hands;
Lines that gave you the freedom to fly.
I remember travelling over them,
Seeing my world within their grasp-
With dreams to hold and a future
Too beautiful to be mundane at all.
“Where are you, darling?” again,
The winds whistle to me.
I look at the stars, the deep blue sky
Ceilings seem too far-I don’t know why
My hands are clueless, catching misery.
Lines blurry, confused, craving, today.
“But wait for the interval!” I fervently say.
The lens will show me scaling, anon!
Threads will hold each other tight and
Rush to make rough, familial vines,
You watch! I’ll sail over winds and oceans.
I’ll chase the sun! I’ll befriend the trees.
The moment winter enters my skin,
Telling me, “Open your eyes and
Just see yourself awake, for once.”
Inspired by the movie La La Land! 🙂