Poetry by Alaska Gold

If the boy who draws,

lets you look over his shoulder.

if the poet

smiles

and shows you her words.

if the girl who sings for the shower only,

hums a song

in front of you.

know that you're no longer a person

but the air

and dust

that fills their lungs.

when the world perishes

and all the things cease to exist,

you'll remain inside an ink stain,

a paintbrush,

a song.'" 

-Alaska Gold-