as if a blue moon happens every month
as if the northern lights aimlessly wander south on a lark
as if stars secretly square dance at our sidereal midnight
“feels like earthquake weather again” she said
and i knew exactly what she meant
it's our faith in our moral compasses that shine amongst the falling stones
it's our salvation in the space that disappears between our lips - every night
it's our religion that makes our bitterest winter seem sweet upon spring reflection
“feels like earthquake weather again” she said
and i have no doubt in my mind that she is right
... .thurlo.
