The River

The River

A Poem by Connor

My mouth is a river,
words flowing consistently.
Lips, an estuary,
flesh-like consistency, 
in my body, memories,
flow within my veins,
the scary thing, i don't
know what I'm saying.
In my mind, things worked
so perfectly, things die
so easily, who knew
life was so fragile. 
So we play catch up,
backs against the sheets,
arms around each other,
the things we speak of
past defeats, beneath covers.
Our eyes are a galaxy,
together we see no fallacy,
Ears pulsing to the rhythm
we only hear our own voices.
Reflect on our choices, where 
were we without each other, 
do I want to know.

© 2010 Connor

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on June 7, 2010
Last Updated on June 7, 2010



i'm a journalism student attending northeastern university. my dorm bookshelf currently holds big sur by jack kerouac, the stranger by albert camus and junky by william burroughs. my favorite music ar.. more..