loving you

You don't possess so captivating howls of the wolves
for how much silence of the moon, it is in me, when
your thoughts, tiptoeing, got sneaked inside of mine.

You don't possess so many forests, which you'd been
wishing to grow 'em in your soul, to make me somehow
lose myself, to feel what means blood pulse of yours.

You don't possess so-so or too much time to be enough
to you, when your whispers burn my lips with verses
rhymeless, cos too, today, they're longing for your kiss.

You don't possess nor even curses, to snatch me out of
any fantasy, where seems I'm laying there about forever,
waiting frantically for you to love me, as you promised…

You don't possess even tomorrow, for how I'm loving you
right now, — into a Monday or a Tuesday, a Wednesday,
Thursday or a Friday and Saturday to not forget about of
Sunday, when you're to me so cold or too-too passionate.


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