{"id":51664,"date":"2019-06-22T17:31:08","date_gmt":"2019-06-22T21:31:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=51664"},"modified":"2019-06-22T17:31:08","modified_gmt":"2019-06-22T21:31:08","slug":"for-all-of-our-lonely-patterns-hour-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2019\/06\/for-all-of-our-lonely-patterns-hour-7\/","title":{"rendered":"For All Of Our Lonely Patterns (Hour 7)"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Following the roads that lead along the river,<br \/>\nthe turns and washed out crevices that only we know.<br \/>\nUnder the shadows of moving clouds in the vast Kansas sky<br \/>\nI kissed you in a ring of watching oak trees,<br \/>\nthe first witnesses of my heart presented on bleeding paper.<\/p>\n<p>In the wildflower dance of that neverending afternoon,<br \/>\nI blanketed your body with the wounds I learned to heal<br \/>\nbefore my hand could hold steady enough to untie the ribbon in your hair.<br \/>\nSo I swallowed all of yesteryear\u2019s memories<br \/>\nto try and give you a real word,<br \/>\na purity from my lips untasted by any others but you.<\/p>\n<p>The trust in your crying eyes,<br \/>\nas if you had seen all of this happen before,<br \/>\nsomewhere not too different than here,<br \/>\nin a dream you use to dream when you were a little girl.<br \/>\nAnd the disappointment of reality became<br \/>\nthe tripping step of mad love, falling hard for the imperfections<br \/>\nof all our failed promises.<\/p>\n<p>I never wanted to be what hurt you the most,<br \/>\nor a painful chapter in the story you wrote<br \/>\nwith your skin and hair and lips and love.<br \/>\nIs there no other way to exist as close to someone as we have been?<br \/>\nOur pain preserved like rusting metal left in the fields,<br \/>\nwhere I saw the red tail resting on the fence,<br \/>\nhis face turned to the sky,<br \/>\nso that his eyes may better watch<br \/>\nthe movements upon the ground.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Following the roads that lead along the river, the turns and washed out crevices that only we know. Under the shadows of moving clouds in the vast Kansas sky I kissed you in a ring of watching oak trees, the first witnesses of my heart&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":965,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-51664","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51664","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/965"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=51664"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51664\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":51679,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51664\/revisions\/51679"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=51664"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=51664"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=51664"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}