meet me by the bayou or garden our aura speaks volume
we touch, spark flames
20 doves fly across the sky
Luna will make an appearance soon
you say ,"two muses would be present"
we created in dark the soul cries when the wolves do
there's a cloud that blocks the sun
rain starts to pour
we run under a tree lips meet
laughs echo
hands lock
bodies fold we are one now
afraid the golden gates might separate this
death does not knock it forces itself in
tears form as we speak upon conversations about the afterlife
knowing that love does not expire but our bodies do
your spirit lives forever
leave a trail for me
YOU ARE READING
The Grey Area (POETRY)
PoetryWe often feel like we are stuck in the grey area in life. It can be the connections we make , career, decisions in general. This collection is a few poems I wrote over the last year or so. It took a while to finally release this due to life just hap...
