jejunebug

a forewarning.. bad self absorbed moody poetry/possibly lyrics in the future are ahead. i do enjoy the title i came up with, though.
three hands, tree hands. sounds almost seussian. except dr. seuss was way better than this.

i can't dream in kisses
they always drown in certainty
with a sound much softer than thunder
but a fire just as final
as one grey tree struck by lightning

before the fire
tree was always reaching heavenward
two limbs extended with leafless branches
now there is a third hand, fiery
pale between the rain soaked hopes
the last chance to reach up
and to touch and divide clouds

but all the sky does is reveal
the reflection of your mind in the gutter
our dreams echo back
never ending our chases with a catch
your third and last hand
faltering with the rest of you
retreating
as my dream whispers to me
the same lesson of futility i heard before i fell asleep