but will my heart soar skyward? by sayoyasuda, literature
Literature
but will my heart soar skyward?
i meant what i said when i said that you are a sunrise, the salmon sky before
drawing, demanding my sleep stained gaze at dawn, my eyes are trained eastward
and i know color now. i know orange. it tastes like citrus. it feels like beginning.
ironically you and i have made a point on several occasions to articulate matters of language, of its suffocating limitations
and when we do, and when i am neck deep in swamps of letters and words, you are holding my hand, and you squeeze it, and then
i am gliding (there is a religious motif to be explored here, an apt metaphor in this muddy swamp. i can’t find it. i wish you were holding my hand)!
until then i’ve found a strip of land that exists between two city signs
a nameless patch of urban chaos. i'll pull over and turn my hazards on and sit nowhere for five minutes before making a
u turn and falling asleep in my parent
but will my heart soar skyward? by sayoyasuda, literature
Literature
but will my heart soar skyward?
i meant what i said when i said that you are a sunrise, the salmon sky before
drawing, demanding my sleep stained gaze at dawn, my eyes are trained eastward
and i know color now. i know orange. it tastes like citrus. it feels like beginning.
ironically you and i have made a point on several occasions to articulate matters of language, of its suffocating limitations
and when we do, and when i am neck deep in swamps of letters and words, you are holding my hand, and you squeeze it, and then
i am gliding (there is a religious motif to be explored here, an apt metaphor in this muddy swamp. i can’t find it. i wish you were holding my hand)!
until then i’ve found a strip of land that exists between two city signs
a nameless patch of urban chaos. i'll pull over and turn my hazards on and sit nowhere for five minutes before making a
u turn and falling asleep in my parent