Thick as thieves,
we ran with troubadours devouring the night. Street lights speckled on burning desires that bedecked our every move. We chanted and grooved to private drummers piercing our souls with expressions of freedom. We waxed the darkness and waned the light as it morphed with our form. We were lovers, sisters, brothers, forlorned beatniks carving out the shadows. We danced in the midnight rain and screamed echos of etched pain down the sewers. We allowed the trees to skewer every rage within our bodies, and begged for the earth's forgiveness. We pilfered thoughts and pecked at notions floating in the ocean's waves of seediness. We treaded gently, and bellowed with force. Thick as thieves, we ran with troubadours and saturated our veins with words.
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AuthorMolly Roland is a writer by nature, and she enjoys stepping over the invisible lines society loves to draw. Categories |