Sunday, August 06, 2006
picture by: ReminiscentScreams
some boys sit on the moon,
my boy sits on a knife.
my boy started by drawing his finger across its tip,
intrigued by the dripping line,
my boy caressed it.
soon my boy drew his hand,
and then my boy sat on it.
then my boy stood on it,
my boy stood on the tip of a knife.
like a puppet,
my boy was attached.
these lines save him from falling of the knife's edge.
my boy cut them away,
one by one,
as if to see how much they could take.
and then he called me,
my boy told me,
and i listened.
i told him to come down.
and he did,
my boy came down from danger's edge.
i'm glad i still know who you are.
jade;d @ 12:30 AM
