hope

To be consumed
By some separate time
Or a very desperate idea
On a volume of times apart
And what was gotten out of it
Could out be that the water
Passing in front of the moon tonight
It’s the secret time you dream into
While the minutes
Of stillness pass
Any other time you are as close as this
I have a good golden feeling
To carry across this abyss
Onto a dark curtain of next days regret
And as I make an orange drink drop
Down my throat as a
Matching color sunsets around
The last place we talked
And I need you that much more

Advertisements

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s