We became a handful of salt thrown over the superstitious left shoulder but we were still madly in love somehow.

I imagined everything about you.

You are vintage and you are beautiful in such a transient way.

Your primary colours and your ailing parts.
because under all your shitty lil’ scraps bloom real genius.
diesel driven. un-plagiarized. no-do-good.

I can see war inside of you;
watched you berate my philosophies with a smile.

You are warm like a sunburn all over my tired body.

Peeking through eyes half closed-

You are day before darkness, and back again

I can feel the exhilaration of my thumb on your trigger;
the tremor in the airframe.

I’ve seen you move with sad grace. Ever slightly off sync.

I’ve seen you lay as still as a motley mosaic.

I’ve heard you growl foreign sounds above all the bleating lambs.

Where your oxygen startles me right and true.

I imagined everything about you…

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3 thoughts on “We became a handful of salt thrown over the superstitious left shoulder but we were still madly in love somehow.

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