float, feel, fly {marr}

[Meghan]

Elle Kyser

i cry at forgotten sonnets;
sweet, sweet melody whispers to me,
frothy voices atuned to only their own hearts;
whisper whisper through my dreary dreams,
and i cry at their calling.

a little dove perches perchance upon a lonely pirouette,
tiptoeing among the white whisper walls of the hospital
"here," the dove whispers, taking an old-gray-burning hand,
embraces fingers made more from folds than fairness,
"have a drop of water, love, it'll parch the perch of your papered throat, love"
the dove only helps, only erases the pain she can,
the money is good, shiny and helpful to trick away hunger;
the dove embraces for sustainment; whispers for faith.

the papered-throat peppered poor responds with a little melody,
drinks her hydrogen dos oxygen with sweetly smiles,
yellow grins and crinkled corners of chocolate eyes, happy eyes,
and sings with every drop of hydration,
"float float we float foward each and every day"
and i, the dove, float too.

Float away, smile slipping, lost in my own eyes and my own fear and my own pain my own pain my own pain ---

shifts end, and i float away through the hurried streets, past the hospital,
towards the college where i know i can find one thing,
one thing that reminds me of her --

a whistle fountain whistles floating tunes,
water, my favorite comfort, my worst enemy,

fall, fall, i fretfully fly and float towards the water,
though a figure lingers near, my heart only whimpers for pain,
i can't face the sunken eyes just yet, i can't, i can't,
i only long for her
i fall,
my knees clash like cymbals upon carved stone,
old but elegant,
and i cry,

i cry,

i cry.

words: 251
Template by Meghan