Poems from PaperCities
Every century it blooms,
sleep filled eyes,
slumber through the ages.
Watching stars with you,
falling, falling,
drowning in light.
Come undone, it's the final bow,
of spirits that breathe,
upon my shoulder and sleeve.
Quiet voices sing,
pencil in hand,
words flow free.
Sitting in the barren land,
looking through the glass,
rain swallows the world.