With Your Devil Hands

Told you to meet me on a roof because I wanted to see you in the air. I never knew you were sky. Teach me how to be so many colors in twenty-two hours and the last two: how to enter dreams. Give me your gaze. Go ahead, Give me the bullet. Fuck the rope. I miss my home. I miss my shape. All form, it’s preposterous. I know we are more. I know I am dead. You pretend that you’re sure Trying to kiss my lips With your heart still in jail. We’ve been so close it’s evil. Meanwhile I am left to feel alone forced to watch you Splitting stars for fun. With your devil hands. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/nakedpoetry/support