Monday 7 January 2008

Their eyes are scraping tears
The concavity, a manifest
Triangles are  swinging

An unshiney breath coming from west
covers the fields,
The arms, longing for haven.

They- innocent-
Purely in time
No one has ever scared

He came in slowly steps
smiling like you

August, time has changed
now
they don't come no more
It was that day 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That truly is a beauty. Keep it up, sweetness. BEAUTIFUL!