August 2011
5 posts
We’ll take a boat out to the moon when our hands turn cold and when we get there we’ll make a nest- out of whatever shells and forgotten secrets we can find. We’ll hold hands beneath lavender blankets and when it gets late we’ll sit writing love letters to the stars and reading poems in whispers. We’ll keep like this until we become forgotten- when the wind is falling we’ll be remembered for a...
I will be your anyone for as long as you shall like me to be. I must tell you that I have thought of many words to put down but they do not want to be there; they want to be hidden. They slipped off the page and left a puddle of ink at my feet, along with the bobby pins that I had dropped whilst taking the secrets out of my hair.