Crushed By Summer


When it gets too bright
We will steal some dark sunglasses
Put on our white collared shirts
And you can quote Rimbaud

"Par les soirs bleus d'été, j'irai dans les sentiers,
Picoté par les blés, fouler l'herbe menue :
Rêveur, j'en sentirai la fraîcheur à mes pieds.
Je laisserai le vent baigner ma tête nue."

We can look at the sky and watch the birds
Kick the red dirt on the road
Our shadows will invoke the night
The ocean will freeze with our whispers and conversation

The clouds will curl and sour
When they hear our songs, our poems
Spoken from the reddest and plumpest of lips
Thrown at each other's bosoms, thrown high, caught low

Words that shall blanket us in grey
Words that shall cover us in sweet love 
Words that shall feed us and keep us running away, together
Words that shall embed our age, with memory ever lasting

Poems of deep emotion, lying in the sand
Words of freedom, moving in our palms
Thoughts written on the bottle's side, keeping us smiling
Whispers carved into the water, moving mountains, jumping from dunes

You can touch me, you can hurt me now
I am the wheat, the stolen day
You are the naked man in the naked light
Everything we do is crushed by summer




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Lake Daff-Dilly

Blind Me And Guide Me

Whose Language Will I Speak?