Wednesday, December 4, 2013

For us with thirsty hands

It's 8am
On a cold saturday morning
And i wonder if you think of me.

As the sun rose
Did i rise in your mind?
It's so bright out here
I wonder if it's bright where you are
it reminds me of how bright your eyes are
And how you words soften my bones
Makes me feel light
Do you think of my eyes?
My hands my lips my feet?
Or has your brain drowned me
In a pool of your other conquests?

My thirsty hands are numb
They don't remember your hands anymore
You are not cold water to them anymore
I am thinking of you
On a cold saturday morning.

On a hot monday
Or a windy Tuesday
Or sunny Friday
Do i ever cross your mind?


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