a perfect smile adorns her face.
stunning!
and how am i to sit still
without touching? in morning light.
such wondrous arch of her back
seemingly perfect
attired in cloth of a damsel -
i pace emptied of reason.
the dewy drops of her cathartic
heart
carry me atop the clouds
watch me unravel
the landscape rolls itself out
spanning forever
her arms stretched behind her head
reaching for the setting sun
her eyes
dancing over my palette
i keep going back to her photograph
breathing in its pixels
i want her to be mine
mine to be hers
these lamps play games with me
casting resembling shadows
touching and feeling
nothing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment