To travel without movement

To travel without movement

A Poem by Yheela

Snow-blind between the galaxies. I bend space-time to be close to you. But my water isn't enough for your desert to flower. They speak to me. With red-colored lips they explain the laws of physics. My lipstick isn't red enough and I don’t have bright blue eyes. Mine are as green as the forest I would plant for you. If you’d ever let me plant a forests. I rage. Overflow. You wait patiently. Knowing nothing can defeat the desert. Your indifferent heat burns me. More than that time I reached into the sun. You know they come with lies and toxic gases. Still, you let them touch you. Your skin is tight over your chest. Gold and copper. They leave greasy imprints all over your skin. Desert winds and sand scrape you clean. Hurting my cheek. There are no longer any obstacles. Trips take seconds. The air is heavy with the scent. I want to be one of the nomads. Riding through your desert. My water would give me free passage. I know. It’s not the water of life. The only truth my water reveals is my obsession. Let me tell you about my home world.


© 2014 Yheela

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Added on May 1, 2014
Last Updated on May 2, 2014



Gotene, Sweden

Reader, geek, published poet and author, gamer, nerd, mom, lazy, N7, wannabe, kind, Browncoat, ironic, Borderlander, crafty and a lot more ... ~*~ more..

Empty spaces Empty spaces

A Poem by Yheela