more poetry

thunder bursts down
through the audio,
splitting waves of bass.
rain stutters to muffled beats,
thickens our steps.

we’re silhouettes,
shadows in strobe.

cool air
and the chill of wet skin,
but when the noise dropped
we spread like fire.

man, i never feel good about poetry.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s