sleeping in the south west

we bleed words

the moon falls asleep
when the mouth spits fire
and the lonely love lets itself
breathe into the suburban dirt.
a state of reveries
in bicycle wheels
and rose-coloured lace,
where the girl speaks in
a beautiful twisted tongue –
there is no light for us to hold here
in this small fist,
baby’s breath
& eyelet lace.
left my heart sleeping
on your shoulder that night
when i told you that i’m scared
of leaving this place and
staying here, all at once.
always looking for a home
across the ocean. and still,
we breathe with salt water lungs.

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