Our eyes in between sun breaks

Watching your pain
drain beneath the cracked floorboards
is a sight to see
when, in love songs,
the sons of beauty
blister their stories with fuel.
Sparking a match,
and turning on a light
that shines
onto our decaying insides.

A raging fire buries us,
sparking the wood that was built
in the last century.
Feeling bare,
where dreams are caught
and left on stage,
our mouths are left wide open,
eyebrows tilted inward
and screaming,
leaving us with nothing.

Until the thunderous mountain
that has torn apart you and me
has melted into the ocean sea,
the sun will not rise
before the next day approaches.

Once the last shot of hope
has lost all calm and control,
we will see the sun once again
and we’ll continue to breathe
from the light that permeates the sky,
and we’ll see each other at last
and cry.

* Published in “Having A Whiskey Coke With You” Issue 5, May, 2014

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