York
by Tim McCool
these small hearts
these late nights
we crunch sand
they fly kites
air is cool
mist and green
loosely held
never seen
outer space
floats our blood
your straw hair
my mouth mud
auburn flesh
pressed and known
bundled thorns
one arm flown
our saliva
brackish flow
reckless step
blunder glow
Liked this a lot.
Great "music" to this Tim.
Thanks Mark, thanks Philip