• natasha_a 7w


    My sorrow effervescent
    briskly as arsenal in a child's nails
    conflate the elision of wretched wombs.
    We are mad lovers, drinking to recite
    our vows on top of the roof for
    god to let this night stay a little longer.
    His presence shades m(e)osaic
    but what fortune is it to be painted
    but still empaestic?
    Because victim of a burnt house
    is always an orphan.

    His bones are ellusioned,
    it stammers for sodium in the sea,
    we are beleagured players
    crawling to an inn but the epiphany of
    snow counts our existence on tails of a wolf.
    I want the stars to fall today. Let me
    wish for our eternity to stay
    longer than stability of primary cations.
    It is our last dance, we are
    not heroes anymore, our capes now rest
    on two kittens down the road.

    'Little sky, never start a sentence with but'
    But how could imbrications of past lead
    to dry goodbye kisses?
    But how ineffable can a star be for us to
    break and fall into the sun?
    But how opulent can comfort be for a
    poor to offer flowers at our grave?
    But how wherewithal our actions were to
    falling cascades in middle of woods?
    (But) How do I write about us when all we
    ever learned was to pyrrhic away?

    Let me love you until the sine functions
    are defined on anti clockwise intervals of
    two hundred and seventy degrees.
    Let me (fade away)/ let me sleep today.

    ~never meant to be