Harbored

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There was a night each morning

where a boy with curly hair, with

big brown eyes and

a funny way of walking

and a sweet way of talking

would meet

her

And there was a night each morning

when a boy with curly hair, with

big brown eyes, with

a funny way of walking and

a sweet way of talking

would say words

and they’d

be

soft and simple and curvy,

they’d travel

cross

the airways

in tidy paths

and drop swiftly

to

her

heart

And there was a night each morning

when a boy with curly hair, with

big brown eyes with

a funny way of walking and a

sweet way of talking

held her

and the girl nailed her feet into the ground where they stood

and even though it hurt

it

still felt

good

It felt wonderful!

When he was gone

she’d love to invent pretty words to describe the remnants

her nailed in feet, an emblem of resemblance

A boy with curly hair, with

big brown eyes with

a funny way of walking and

a sweet way of talking

who effortlessly disguised

bloodied feet for

love

suprised

her when she started to wish that love was mirandized because

There was a night each and every morning

when a boy with curly hair, with

big brown eyes with

a funny way of walking and

a sweet way of talking

Didn’t share the stars and

he wasn’t there to tell her

that her scars

were worth suffering for

and that she was fearfully beautiful

and there was a night each morning

where a girl with long blonde hair, with

big blue eyes, with

a funny way of crying

and a sweet way of tying

skin

over the dry bones

that the boy with curly hair, with

big brown eyes

with a funny  way of walking

and a sweet way of talking,

left

her

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