Carella Keil, Half Past Dream
Explain the Speed of Light
Carella Keil
Our dreams in a spiral galaxy spin around like revolving doors, as we move closer and closer to the end. Time is like a balance beam. Walking through Desolation City, I feel your pulse in my Achilles’ heel. Emotions and energy mingle. Your love stops my heart like a clock. Like a trapdoor, I fall through. My heart hangs from every sentence and dangles from every tree branch.
And then comes a time, when our dreams no longer overlap, and the ocean forgets its shore. In the time of broken petals, my mind loses its shine. The stars wake up in someone else’s sky, and I remember how to breathe fire, rolling the syllables of the sun off the back of my tongue.
Your promises crumble like chain-link fences, no more fairy-tale worlds, only wishing wells filled with crone and maiden tears. The galaxies evaporate from my eyes, leaving behind pillars of salt.
Carella Keil
Our dreams in a spiral galaxy spin around like revolving doors, as we move closer and closer to the end. Time is like a balance beam. Walking through Desolation City, I feel your pulse in my Achilles’ heel. Emotions and energy mingle. Your love stops my heart like a clock. Like a trapdoor, I fall through. My heart hangs from every sentence and dangles from every tree branch.
And then comes a time, when our dreams no longer overlap, and the ocean forgets its shore. In the time of broken petals, my mind loses its shine. The stars wake up in someone else’s sky, and I remember how to breathe fire, rolling the syllables of the sun off the back of my tongue.
Your promises crumble like chain-link fences, no more fairy-tale worlds, only wishing wells filled with crone and maiden tears. The galaxies evaporate from my eyes, leaving behind pillars of salt.