The Time MachineA Poem by Caitlin CardinalTime is liquid it is water and we are parched. Come outside to Turn your fingers into locks cup them with mine, seal up your fingerprints. We will catch every drop- tic ticking pieces- until our fleshbowl is full and flowing. We will sip softly lap close, until we are glistening on the inside glowing on the outside and exchanging glances like waves wearing away at rocky coasts.
© 2008 Caitlin Cardinal |
Stats
227 Views
Added on June 3, 2008 AuthorCaitlin CardinalMinneapolis, MNAboutPoetry. Photography. Music. People. Conversation. Humor. Food. Dreams. Adventure. Tolerance. Peace. Sex. Kickboxing. Biking. Journalism. Blue. Orange. Books. Movies. Art. Keep it real. more..Writing
|