throttle & base

0.

there are words you wish you could say
to cradle me. your breath is a cloud
upon my skin. back arched, sinking ribs
euphoria painting the horizon indigo
at sun down.

you can't understand that i'm the aftermath
of indigo—the hollow, evening color that lingers
in the corners of the pre-midnight sky i tried
to piece together for you. i let your breath condense,
cloudy, words left unformed

in the haze of hunger that happens all-too-quickly
for people like us.

Author's Note: This is a collection of poems I've been writing late at night when sleep evades me. They are all about the same person and how things never seem to end, I suppose. Will be updated rather randomly-and it probably won't end until I feel like it's over. Let me know what you think, and if anyone has a poem you want me to take a look at, let me know that, too!

Elle