Allowing the blood to rise to the surface of the skin.

 allowing the blood to rise to the surface of the skin

wherein we fight the urge to take flight

blue skies can’t hold us in

...tact

tight the way our fists hold fast

black and white

the way we run away

and then turn around to orchestrate a collide

and sometimes we miss

but when we run

everything turns gray

and we’ll knock our heads against

come what may

maybe we won’t even think to remember

each hand on the other’s face

it’s not like it mattered

not like it meant very much of anything at all

to anyone

it’s not like i’ll miss you

it’s not vice versa

when our faces came first

and it’s not like there was anything we could do to stop it

eventually all this blind running will stop on its own

we’ll hold on

for the briefest of moments

we’ll overlap our endeavors

really? our love is forever and ever and ever

or at least until you remember my name

so i’ll wait here for ever and ever

but you never came

and i  got tired of waiting

i got tired of staying the same

so let’s turn around and take off again

running in circles and talking about means to the end

pouring over books and pondering questions

place our minds in separate places

running and running until

we

break

 

down again

i’ve never had these thoughts before

surfacing like blood under skin

and right here, in this place

things make sense

don’t make a scene

you’ve got things to do

and i’ve got nervous energy

just got enough rope to weave your own fence

we’ll succeed somehow

we’re young but we’re we

no one in the world has ever done this before

no, not this

but who are we

who is this unit of flesh and eyesight

this reference to words and sunlight

who are we?

we are running

our moment is over

-       we had different answers

our hands are detached, we’re running

in the black and white and gray

we’re alone, but we’re okay

gathering blue on the corners of our bodies

where we caught  edges of the other eternal runners

caught little puddles of blood beneath our skin

pressing down with pins

pinning down the causes of our velocity

critical to our understanding

we are we

and who is anyone to disagree

but what proof do we have

tangible in the palms of our hands

they hold nothing

not water

nor sky nor skin

how do we know

the answer, of course, is in

allowing the blood to rise to the surface of the skin

Reviews

[dark and twisty]

brilliant poetry piece...you write really well...