you sure are something else,
keeping me up with the kinds of touch i refuse to tolerate. and oh the laughter is deep and compulsive and tremendous.
it is splendid, us wrapped
in moments like so;
shh, baby everyone else is asleep. we step over the boards that creak. we sneak out the front door to the little store that's open all day and night. we buy coffee, cigarettes, an umbrella. we do not smoke. it is not raining.
the weary cashier says, you kids must be in love.
we run across the busy street.
we dodge angry headlights.
we fight the chemicals in our body pleading, go to sleep. we are not meant for this sort of engagement. but we pay no mind.
in our lives, time is the acquaintance we won't speak to.
i knew it'd be wonderful, you say.
and are you talking about today?
and are you talking about the two of us?
but you rush to the end of the curb, you keep walking.
and now i'm talking to myself.
and now i'm holding an umbrella
just big enough for two
like somehow you knew
love would show up again
down
the
road
A contest entry
- Prose Only by February Moon.
1200 points, ended December 15, 2009, 7 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
be honest. I won't put you on my ignore list. :)
Comments
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Really loved this. Good take on the prompt. Thank you so much for entering.
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thank you.
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"we run across the busy street.
we dodge angry headlights."
I did that today! Very nice, and gave me a mental picture of those teens my mom always yells at not realising thats who her daughter is.
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