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Literature Text
she met an ink-stained boy
stories sunk in his skin
e-y-e-s above constantly
popped knuckles, an anchor
on his cheek, small thing weighed
heavy below his half-closed lids
loud is an angry dog barked [with I'll be gone as a collar along
over his heart tense rapscallion neck]
her illustrated man was strumming a guitar
in a quiet parking lot, she toured (with hands clasped behind her body
this living museum, his colorful past leaning forward)
she studied his graffiti-self from a distance
and he saw a clean slate girl
in his asphalt venue
she was a deep intake of fresh air
the faint scent of getting a new start
but she was so far away
so closed to his laid bare pages
his dark-dipped, metallic fingertips
where are your stories, journal girl?
where is room for something new, published boy?
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someone will recognize him...
sorry, y'all, for so many posts of late. been sitting on this for quite a time.
sorry, y'all, for so many posts of late. been sitting on this for quite a time.
© 2013 - 2024 0hgravity
Comments26
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I like how this is a boy-and-girl story but not exactly a love story either. More of a beginning, like the questions at the end open up avenues for more questions. At least that's how it struck me.
"but she was so far away
so closed to his laid bare pages
his dark-dipped, metallic fingertips"
"but she was so far away
so closed to his laid bare pages
his dark-dipped, metallic fingertips"