I believe I’m floating :: SOTD

1

“She come flying through like a traveling gypsy show tornado,
leaving us lying there bleedin’,
cut wide open,
hearts broken,
guess I got my mind well twisted didn’t I?”

dustbowl daisies
by me

we gather in a cyclical regard
fire lit and spinning round
beneath a desert sky of stars
windswept hair and dust on your tongue
you never looked so beautiful

grasping in the gypsy soaked sun
tangling hair and fingers in the backseat
we talk of lion’s roars and tornadoed skies
lining up childhood fears in tidy rows
I close my eyes and start to sing

trespassers with a pack of smokes to share
postcard moments we will never send
sat next to an abandoned water park
everything rises and falls just like this
but there is poetry in such devastation

you sketch the lines in my face
turning age into just another story to tell
we could live here right in the back of the van
sell scarves and woven words on torn paper
play guitar for the truckers and thieves

do you know how I love you
in pieces and parts yet to be examined
tracing constellation on your naked skin
as I memorize the clear blue of your eyes
wishing for wonder and days to never end

but the city has our number now
laundry lists and moments clean out of time
we will soon become exits at the baggage carousal
promises for words and oh please don’t cry
pockets of the desert to leave and remember

I love you too
you whisper quietly into my ear
my angel with daggers and a bullet proof smile
let’s go back to nowhere is all I can say
but I just stand still waving goodbye

all I can do is wave goodbye

All in a Daze Work :: Kurt Vile

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