Icicle Lagoon
Jul 26, 2017 · 1 min read

below the noise, acrack of mountains, frozen where cars don’t go,
i hear a memory, a thought down fountain, a place where childhood blows.
i listen for trout, envision cold whiskers, a time where the tacos were warm
a place where apes would jump at whispers, and fish wouldn’t despise their worm.
I turn cold pages and light up small engines, my breath it could crystal the moon
but that was all long before love went unmentioned, whence i moved to Icicle Lagoon.

