There is something
in the deep purple horizons
that line each of your upper eyelids.
I keep thinking that we are getting
But the swell of your sighs
is making it harder for me to breathe.
In your veins are all of the things
you are made of.
The cells your holy body created
don’t know what they are doing anymore.
Irises, rings of pale heaven when
the overcast moves in.
You are like that man
who burned himself alive.
The sitting example of what it means
when injustice has been thrown upon you
in a wet blanket onto your cold hands.
Three cups of coffee with cream and sugar
one shared slice of french silk pie.
The neon lights stretched forever
in mirrors that filled the space before the ceiling.
I cried in your car
you looked at me.
I am not sure if there is much more to say
other than that my heart feels like it can carry on
for a little bit more.
Ambra Gutierrez by Stefano Brunesci (via Ambra Gutierrez by Stefano Brunesci | Fashion Fabulosity!)