You will not be mine.

You can keep me pinned here,
and push the morning back with your tongue
but we both know
when those morning birds
sing us to our feet
drag off our covers
you will not be my mine.

Oh just keep me pinned here,
hear me out, feel my vacant bones
and let me go
when those morning birds
sing us to our feet
drag me to my existence
that owns me over you.

: 19 Feb 2010 04:14 |  Tags: Poetry |  Comments (0) |  Report a problem