I am need some water. My mouth is dry. I haven’t had a drink yet and I know I need some. It’s as dry as the thoughts in my mind. Writers block is what they call it, I believe. Who is “they?
The weather was unusually dry. Had it not been for the storm of late, we would not be suffering in this maddening desert. And by storm, well there’s no rail. Just the dust in the air.
Rysd7
My lips dry,
The taste of lipstick on my tongue.
Vibrations dancing up my calves –
Music ringing in my ears.
Bodies so close we all touch.
My eyes trace a thousand people
Before wandering back to yours.
This moment is a poem I hope
Will be beautifully scrawled
In my little black book someday.
Lost in the lyrics of our song,
In the smell of smoke and the
Oceans of light; in time; in you.
I am need some water. My mouth is dry. I haven’t had a drink yet and I know I need some. It’s as dry as the thoughts in my mind. Writers block is what they call it, I believe. Who is “they?
The weather was unusually dry. Had it not been for the storm of late, we would not be suffering in this maddening desert. And by storm, well there’s no rail. Just the dust in the air.
My lips dry,
The taste of lipstick on my tongue.
Vibrations dancing up my calves –
Music ringing in my ears.
Bodies so close we all touch.
My eyes trace a thousand people
Before wandering back to yours.
This moment is a poem I hope
Will be beautifully scrawled
In my little black book someday.
Lost in the lyrics of our song,
In the smell of smoke and the
Oceans of light; in time; in you.