We have found comfort
In flowing waters,
In the coldness of the night,
In stillness of days,
And in taboo angles of the cityscapes,
See,
I remember how subtle, yet piercing, those gaze
We have found laughter
In things people wouldn't dare to talk about,
In silent whispers,
And in willful, tiny kisses–
A kiss to souls that remained untold,
Unwavered by raining lies,
And reveled in conscious disguise
Perhaps this is the only way not to forget,
To feel,
To grasp of something that's real,
To straight up tell time that for once,
For a very short moment,
We were present–
Existing–and breathing,
And living life,
In this bubbles consist of dreams and fantasies
Look what we've found,
You and me.
YOU ARE READING
Plague Prosaic
PoetrySimple things, doesn't have to be right, doesn't have to be wrong, it just have to be. A 'kind-of' a journal about everything ordinary inside a mind so chaotic. All Rights Reserved ©Lazidoura 2021
