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poem for love


Tigers eating lemon flavored teardrops
The dream seeps and drips
The frozen stain in the back of your mind.

An orange scarf left behind,
floating in the wind, weaving between
the waves of dust and heaven.

Doing things you know you shouldn’t do
but you glide on your rocket anyway
You’re in on an adventurous secret,
shared only between me and you.

Once more we’ll bear the air,
trudging benignly through the
scenes and seasons with our
droopy rusting senses,
hanging for dear life
as we dive in and out
of the fire of our
sacred mischief.

more by ANNA ELISE

photograph by Daniel M Viero

The Writers Manifesto


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