Cloud Talk Mediocrity Done
These far, I am far
the moon fat separates us
half moon laughs
my words do not reach the wind
Irte
tires is your first thought not answer the call
Forgot?, dear I can not touch d
nearly
lips still my torment
I have fear of the potential of that old flame from being extinguished
lost castanets of your body on earth and my cold
tears shed from wood and plank purpurea
love speaks, speaks to the gentleman
speaks to the silence, speaking to heaven
your moon speaks, speaks snail leaves
fruit tree with its flowers without.
0 comments:
Post a Comment