spun cotton light
cinnamon
dreams
melt into
illusions now.
its hard to tell.
songs turn
on their sides, asleep
a word quietly
unbinds her breasts
at times,
living seems
easy
between sighs
on its toes,
a mist runs
parting time
and i don't know
what to do
anymore.
2 comments:
Start
Again
The ground is not
Wet yet
But it will rain
Twilight
it is just
Night will fall
The mist will
evaporate
:)
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