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literature
thunderstorms
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Literature Text
He reminds me of rain,
and paintings of bones-
He talks like smoke,
slackjawed and silent.
His eyes are gray,
like ponds frozen over by ice- or-
the sky right before a thunderstorm in summer,
after thunder but
before lightning.
He reminds me of pine
and sun and river water-
I want to tell him that
it's okay to talk like smoke,
slackjawed and silent-
It's okay that no one will ever understand
how your favorite paintings are of jawbones and
your favorite part of summer is that
gray-and-yellow moment
after thunder but
before lightning.
and paintings of bones-
He talks like smoke,
slackjawed and silent.
His eyes are gray,
like ponds frozen over by ice- or-
the sky right before a thunderstorm in summer,
after thunder but
before lightning.
He reminds me of pine
and sun and river water-
I want to tell him that
it's okay to talk like smoke,
slackjawed and silent-
It's okay that no one will ever understand
how your favorite paintings are of jawbones and
your favorite part of summer is that
gray-and-yellow moment
after thunder but
before lightning.
~
© 2009 - 2024 fevermonument
Comments15
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This really is very very stunning.
I adore the imagery and the style.
Fantastic!
I adore the imagery and the style.
Fantastic!