The sea opened like a flame
And then broke the glass of the picture frame
And all the pieces fell on the floor
Except for the rose who wanted nothing
More than to piece the heart of the story back together
But except these two lovers
Were the sea of roses
But the ocean was her current
And she was the reality of the rose petals.
YOU ARE READING
The ocean is my current and I am the reality
PoetryThe sea opened like a flame And then broke the glass of the picture frame And all the pieces fell on the floor Except for the rose who wanted nothing More than to piece the heart of the story back together But except these two lovers Were the...