kali's balloon : luka korba
kali's balloon
at my sorrows photographing
every bit of blue that she
sucked right out of depths of me;
wise she is, and now i wonder
just what kind of drug i’m under
every time i fall in love;
there is beauty in a dove,
but its flight leaves scars and aching.
this destruction is partaking
in my rebirth and my death.
next in line must be a breath
worthy of advancing my
journey here way past the sky.
it’s here now, but are you too?
the red balloon, i’m thanking you
for each feeling, lesson taught,
and for never you forgot
to detail how much you care
not about my love and stare.