Quiet Revolution

We started a quiet revolution
the day that we wiped paint on our thighs
and peanut butter cups melted in the 4:00 heat
our hearts were the cardboard kind
but we sliced open our chests anyway
and held them up to the sun
calling them beautiful in all their ballpoint glory

We used the hollow parts
where blood didn’t pool
to clean the brushes between strokes

There was a seed stuck in your teeth
and you spat it out before we walked home

Today, I returned
carrying a lead balloon in my stomach
and dropping it beside a shattered TV set
and a pile of broken bottles

It’s taken me a year to write you this letter
but I just want to let you know
that the seed sprouted into so much
concrete handiwork
that our little masterpiece is lost in it all
right where it belongs

I forget your eyes sometimes
but our lives will spin into so much handiwork
that our little moment will get lost in it all
right where it belongs

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s