when we ran aground, the sea and me

I loved you like pavement
fast asleep inside the chalk
solid lines, no passing up
broken backs carted me off

softly bruising in slow motion, we

adrift in recycled poetry
a printed pretty plasticine dream
falling short of what is longed
standing tall as the forest for the trees

some sing a lot like birds

actions speak louder than words
while the honest folk get to sleep
safe in the mouth of the cloud
askance at molehills beneath

oh mountaineer I'm ravenous for

when that honesty that you praise
with top hats and turnstiles
spits graffiti on your grave
then still do you smile?

grim face-eating grin of death

rest assured in stupor, approved
showtunes and showtimes on your breath
or tattoo me now with your kiss to the sky
I miss your eyes in song and bed next to mine

-Luke Rounda