It's a long road to unknownMature

Manipulation of words
use to come like rivers
of convoluted confessions
and helpless dreams
and a bite
of daydreams.
Hours spent
for new words
new planets
new eyes
new universes
that nobody's ever seen
new lives
for phrases
you could barely taste
at the tip
of your tongue.
we canter
in our minds
as if searching cabinets
for something new
something borrowed,
something used
but new
among new lungs
and shaken
as if plucked
at random.
Whether we are the vessel
or the voice
is never
our choice.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed