![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0JLxEa-k1GT3FRAhYfNIA3rM15kc15VHdMRKJPcyxCyyo1ztPUd6yjsa6yAlgAs6OYqPbo56Qy07oPz49kwlRtY0jtaeKi0MI5UUAdTb8iOZRpSEG-mo65hhmVNp-QA_LApSQrv56AerM/s400/phone+background+option+1.jpg)
Sunsetrise, the cusp of days and nights.
Tender expectation (or disappointment)
In the letting go (anticipation) of a day.
What was and will summed up in succulent tones;
Ruby red in ochre;
Fruity pink in lemonade.
The sky is hot (and tasty).
I want to bite into
The gradated ribbon separating night and day
Across the sky.
Taste today and tomorrow so I can know.
But there is no dessert like the (knowledge) you can’t have.
Temptation and delight,
In the overflowing moments between day and night.
And when clouds roll past in contrasting blues;
Navy and cerulean,
Robin’s egg and forget-me-nots.
Flowers of the sky,
Cousins of the stars.
They all know our dreams;
The ones we whisper out with every exhale
And wish with every intake of air.
The turn of the day, the turn of the night;
The truth in these moments in the sky are ours
But not to have.
Forever out there in the cycle of fluctuating gold and blue.
Let me know what you think, and if you're interested in more!
xx
No comments:
Post a Comment