the night rushes on
the chaos settles on my breath
the curtain flutters in melancholy
dreaming about the rhythms of footsteps
words, and just silences
the curtain wants to let the air in
as it does with sunshine
but the cold makes me spread its wings
it cuts me off from traffic
and the curtain watches alone
as the road dies down slowly
only for the cars to rush in
with the coming sun
and horns blooming and basking in cacaphony
that puts the chaos from my breath
back on the road
No comments:
Post a Comment