scribblings in solitude...
- "Out here on the perimeter there are no stars, Out here we is stoned - immaculate." - Jim Morrison
Monday, April 9, 2012
The air I breathe
Feed me the bullets,
soiled in memories that evaporate,
sooner than early dew under the sun.
Shoot me down,
with the sound of our laughter,
as everything else fades away,
into the glimmer of your eyes.
Turn back my life,
fill it with your breath until it’s a fog of what we are;
slowly rewrite the world I know,
until you become the air I breathe.
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