to be needed
or to be wanted,
to choose symmetry
when imbalance has more color.
the asphalt burns my feet
running towards you
but i’ll lose them
if i gain you,
cross the river
to feel your hand pull me out.
how you’ll never be boring to me,
formed as a sculpture
/yet you don’t even know/
how i breathe art in like oxygen
and bleed words from my veins.
existence is an emptiness
/i dream of/
us draped in something
/you’ll remember/
we never existed
but i get deja vu
around you
like you’ve happened here before.
Zoe Golden
Durango
