L O O K @ T H E M O O N

I am connected by a string, a tightrope pulls from a million miles away, she follows me, the peach-colored painting in the precious blue night, the bus slides over snow, and the people bustle with talk of not enough love, where is my box of chocolates, and the moon follows us at the same speed, 50 mph on a soggy, cement street, she sits hidden behind neon signs and bricks and tall, naked trees, and more buses speeding past, neither he or she knowing the love that’s glowing with all it’s glory, shining with the greater strength than the rock that concaved through Goliath’s head, the blood spilling into sand creating putty, she’s still here, faster than the girl who runs a marathon barefoot, just to feel the rocks digging into her skin, the only ones to tell her she is real and you can continue to brush your hair for that boy but the moon, she’s chasing you, chasing you with the tightrope’s tantalizing fervor, connected from her crater to yours

Published by celinamcmanus

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