they spoke of crazy
atop a life of hatred
black that faded
and a soul to another
with life lived through othersyet i sleep with a curve
arms to please
and a slight bent of the kneea tune of birth
cries of bloody murder
melody of edge that seem to tremble at bed
but a smirk of ease
eyes that scream
to please, to bleed
to feel free with the wind of the eve
like sheets that lie underneathwe are the sky
the eyes that linger at night
shadows of the streets
people that scream
to live, to need and to breathe
a growth to understand
to lie next to the bed
they are the lovers
the monsters
the thoughts we extend to paperanother year to another blender
with notions until slumber
i love till i know
till i can’t anymorewe are the knees
the slight bent
the ones who care and please
until the bees steal the honey
and the sun turns from ugly
words by dominic riccitello
Leave a comment