Treasure Island

Zoe Nyght

(September 5th,1988 / Artesia, California)

Poems about leaving


Black converse, green converse,
vintage.
We three are strung together by
the shoelaces in our hearts
filling our souls with –
emo kids talk.
We’re docked

for a few moments in time,
rocking to the beat of our eyes.
Young and in love it’s always
too early to leave.

Promenade, baby,
down the boardwalk into
pictures and carousels and wet lanes.
The street and stains remind us
of good friends, good times,
good people. Floating on sugar water,

docked in chocolate, right now
the world is so sweet.
Lights and rhythm,
funnel cake, our bare feet
flying down the beach way

we’re too good to end
and our pre-dawn eyes know it–

so we jump
from fear of heights
and end up with sand in places
it takes years to find.
We will, later, find ourselves
sandy
we’ll walk down the streets
with the marks of our friends
and maybe it’s not so bad
in the end.

Submitted: Sunday, August 07, 2005
Edited: Friday, August 12, 2005

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