11:09 p.m.
monday eve —
bedroom parlour
***
"i favor it. even with
how piquant our
meals are in this
world. it cannot
compare to the
bitterness and the
taste of sand that
it emits.
it reminds me of the
ocean. how bitter are
the waves. the music
of the sails when i
would voyage a boat
out in the open.
i was willing to be
devoured by its maws.
to bask in ornaments
it bestows within its
anatomy added with
the tint that the sun
gives.
god-father have
bestowed me plenty.
and that includes
the warmth that the
world lacks. what
you need.
what you want."
***
YOU ARE READING
Our Vintage Dance on the Phonograph
Puisi"you and - me, we traversed at the eve of the colossal pages of our bedroom balcony." - excerpt there is no other dancing partner i would dance with other than you, my sun. you bring me to places that are wiped out of history - to the gardens of rui...
