Blog Post 3.2: rooftop wishes (bedford)
As empty as an abandoned apartment
As weak as the ebbing tide
Gathered together like chains on
As rough as my summer soles
Trembling like an apartment in post-earthquake Los Angeles
Praying like a brotherhood of monks
Bouncing like a tennis ball
Smiling like a kid walking into Disney World for the first time
Heart of splintered bark
Mountains of cigarette ash
War is a lost boy
The ocean is a well of unheard wishes
The moon is an escape from the darkest night
This house of broken glass
My love is a prisoner
Writing is a beaten dirt road
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rooftop wishes (bedford)
my love is a prisoner of a brownstone in bedford,
where mountains of cigarette ash build on the rooftop,
the surface as rough as my summer soles,
as i look out across the borough of the kings.
the moon, an escape from the darkest night,
no longer lights up my night as it has before.
the ocean, that well of unheard wishes,
has finally heard the splash of my latest coin.
my heart now beats hard and fast,
never to be as weak as the ebbing tide again.
my love is at home in a brownstone in bedford.
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