Blueprints
Half a life later I have this green couch, which I lay on alone / belting melodies for my neighbors to hear as though I’m connected / but I’ve never been so disjointed / torn between zip codes and time zones and my body remains but my heart is elsewhere / searching, always yearning to find the way it felt to have your arms around me strumming / and laughing when I got it wrong but sliding closer with hope between us / but our lack of oxygen smothered the fire before it burned / and I smelled the smoke all night
A green velvet chaise
dad’s used guitar in your hands
you laid the blue print
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I’ve spent some time today reminiscing on some good times long ago, and this poem meets me in that exact place. I love it. Thank you so much for sharing it.