Rhythms
There we were making rhythms Jumping ahead of Earth’s own heartbeat Setting new times to our universe And we drank it in like warming wine We the children Running to deserts Pockets full of magic With whiskey spirits in our souls and our wings Us few the bold The brave trodden souls Tobacco stinging bright our gypsie eyes Kaleidoscopes reaching fingers through our minds To stir our colored dreams Our dusty hearts set aflame By setting stars and shooting suns And here the sparks become our loves And so with them we danced up Into airless skies and cloudless nights To make ash angels on moons And snowflakes of Milky Ways xx Atticus@atticuspoetry
