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Hearts cannot be bound –
they skrit across dreams like pebbles,
sinking, stone heavy
into the depths of sleeping water.

Will they wait?
These inner vaults crammed tight
like tombs with fading faces;
until old wounds push forth new flesh.

Can kisses be kept
amongst the brick-a-brack of memory?
Stolen in the night
and as soft as secret smiles.

Is there not a space beyond
the coil of heavy slumber,
where hearts can roam
to land their kisses where they fancy?
Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
:iconbexica:

Author's Comments

Inspired by a line in 'Howl's Moving Castle', aided by the delicious state known as 'sleep'.

Comments


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:iconyour-dying-angel:
That's really beautiful. I particularly like the last stanza. :)

--
Well behaved women don't make history ;)
Oh, and I lost the game!
:iconbexica:
Thank you =]

--
the sun does rise
:iconamylene:
Love!
The ending is actual perfection :)
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