Years subside

Twilight and daybreak intertwine.
Casting shadows and dawn on these eyelids.
People come and talk to me of passion.
Then they linger, and talk to me of death.
I feel stuck inside a moral station.
Watching the trains as I in decide.
I feel a murmur of god, yet the call of the wild.
Battling against the push of gravity.
No longer feeling its pull.
How the years have folded like a napkin in my lap.
Dirty and used.
Yet I wonder. I wonder if I’m hungry still.

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Relish

I still have the taste of you on my lips.
Consumed in passion.
Chapped in reason.
Digesting the sorrow for a day.
As the bones of us melt in my stomach.
And we start the dance once again.

(Space) Dust settling

How do we coordinate?
I found you there, where the wind meets the wild.
The violent storm.
I wished for you twenty lifetimes ago.
When my feelings were cooling like the earth’s crust.
What is it that we have now? What holds us together like emotions?
I wear the land upon me like your needs; vibrant and synchronised.
Emotional oceans of respect and calm.
Pulling me down in the wave crest of passion.
Are we there? Where we plotted. Ejected into space.
Coordinated around universal clocks that tick and hum.
Loving you on the latitudes of complexity. Tick.
The longitudes of simplicity. Tock.
Dripping like stars.
Maybe this state of now, is what happens after the war.