my throat is empty
because there is a city
in my lungs
and it breathes for me.
i do not need air.
there are oceans
that bleed into shores,
suns that come gently
and sink like ships.
there is sand in my eyes
in my teeth
between my toes.
there are stars in bottles
neon lights
and spoons that clink, clink, clink.
the city in me never sleeps.
her eyes are wide open
like the windows in my room.
she walks me through her streets
and sings in my ear her song
so i can dance.
she holds her hands around my waist
as the night fills my heart.
(this city is home).
About the Creator
Sara
Don’t look for love.
Be love.
Fair Exchange, No Robberies
Dark Memoirs - Index There are at least two kinds of people in the world: those who write this half-arsed kind of intro to a story that looks to separate the rare and the norm, and those who realise it's an overused framing device and don't.
By Paul Stewart7 days ago in Chapters
Comments (2)
Wow! Some poems are too big for words. Love every word of this.💕❤️💕❤️
You have beautifully painted the picture of a city as being your own body....I can feel the rhythms pulsating through your veins like a second heartbeat! 💫💫💫🌃