Two seats, and all of plans were laid
All stories were heard, and all memories were made
Your lips touch mine, time after time
Shone by the moonlight, under the bright night
Clouds are a mystery; what type of boundary?
When Luna hid there like a kid, did she cover her eyes?
Or are there flickering lights, making me frightened?
Under the bright night, your hand touches mine
Isn't it sweet to make the sky witness such cool things?
To make them watch two people doing nothing
Just to sit there while their eyes are staring
Under the bright night, I'm here, loving him
YOU ARE READING
Your Love Buried Deep Inside My Disastrous Heart (Poetry)
PoetryMy most poetically written poems are buried deep inside my disastrous heart. Love is poetry; you are the poetry.
