Alphabet Soup Minuscule

J.C. Scheff

The Gray Beneath You

Isn’t it something,

The way even the sun hits you just enough.
How graceful and engaging the smallest turn of your head is.
Even the shadows wrap themselves around you entirely.
Like I want to.

I need to be the shadows and the sun in your mind, your head.
The lyrics to an old forgotten song that take you places untraveled.

As the sound of these spokes sing, as you move off the gray beneath you.
I can feel the wind in your face,
How it softly touches your skin.
Like I want to.

I need to be the spokes and the wind that move you.
Yet, cool you when you become hot.
As if I were water to drink.
Could I fill you enough?

For a moment I admire your face.
I have never seen one quite like it.
There’s something in the way the sun wraps itself around you.
It is here I see the road reflecting in your frames.

Not the blues of these corneas,
Or the freckles upon my cheekbones.
Nor the pink mouth that purses together like a half sealed envelope.

Only the road.
Only the shadows.
Only the sun.
Only the wind.
And you in your element.


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3 thoughts on “The Gray Beneath You

  1. Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:

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