way up

a mental imagery wings its way up
to the satellite of your sky, —

suspiciously, in the sky of yours
it is late, — it is infernally late...

yet, perceived, is a tremored whisper
on my skin written with your mind

it's about a cryptical story about us, —
two lovers swaying smoothly together

…preoccupied with nothing else


Explore Popular Posts From This Blog

nightmares are fond memories

are you looking for someone to love

telepathy

yAyAyA

volume one

bizarre... i don't know what it is… but i love it

and you, my love

you next to me

one million stardust

me you