Silver smiles and empty eyes.
We drifted in the barren air, grabbing for every other colour
And our fingers slip like oil every time.
Being a bundle of awkwardly put together bones, and a plastic mask,
I drifted about believing I was beautiful and full.
When I stared at the black and dampened stars
I sensed warmth, like from the ashes of a fire just put out.
What if the sun never rose?
I’d scrape my bones, nodding, and never know flesh:
the warmth, softness, beauty.
Many a daylight spent and many a dream of you,
But James went searching for the moon,