rain has found its way through the ceiling
night strikes its drowsy spell on daytime
cold injects its metals through my pores
heat drinks waters from my veins
crowd prompts laughter
swarms assault
barefoot
i could have had it
and more
if not for the blanket
that is you
love is what is left at the end of the day.
From: melbourne, victoria, Australia
About me: i'm a wanderlust and a warrior of life. i have hordes of nomads and soldiers waiting to wander this sometimes barren and sometimes lush landscape of my head. i send them forth. they are my words. my weapon of choice: purple prose
posted by ciggy at 1:51 PM