erk. ack.

[saffronhare]

There was a prompt over at merry_fates and I gave in to the urge to write what fionnabhar and I cheerfully call "thirtysomething angst poetry." Except not so much with the angst. I think.

Caught you on the tip of my tongue, I did
Too warm for snow in the city
It seemed like the thing to do anyway
Open up, reach out, and wait

Millions of other drops crashing all around me
Tugging on the strands of my hair
Chilling my feet in these time-worn shoes
Not my puddles to step in, thank god

And then the sweetness of the one that’s just for me
Bright and cool and shocking and perfect
Making me dizzy with the everyday blessing
Of soaking you up



::shrug::

Comments

[tessagratton.livejournal.com]

Ooooo! You should know that angst is something we prize highly over at merry_fates. :D

The metaphor here is lovely. I like the opening line a LOT.

[saffronhare.livejournal.com]

Me too. I almost used it as a title and then I figured, ugh, title is overkill. And I *wanted* to use it as an opener. :)