It wouldn't be so bad

winded child running though winding corridors
slick with rapeseed oil and dusted-off
memories whose echoes whisper
into his little ear that he could grow to be
one of them
and it wouldn't be so bad, really,
they say, to be
one of them
lazily haunting hearts and thoughts
in this place that cannot be.
 
silken girl with silver down on her arms
slinking through summer grass
towards the river whose ripples murmur
to her pearled ear that she could yearn to be
one of them
and it wouldn't be so strange, really,
they say, to be
one of them
leading souls down to the water's edge
in this place that cannot be.
 
wrinkled face of a gentle-handed giant gazing
sightless at the city lights that slowly
enchant the haze resting heavily on london's shoulders
and breathe condolences
into his oaken heart that he will soon become
one of them
and he knows it will be just fine, really,
he knows, to be
alone with her
dancing their old dance at the world's end
sharpening their bodies on soil
inking each other deep into birds' wings
like they used to
in this place that cannot be.
 
 
 
 
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/3ejiv8/to_the_one_who_knows_me/
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/3etonq/she_shines/