Constantly on the verge of collapsing
into murky intentions I had.
I was strolling on the blade's edge,
until the path has been divulged
by the June moon
above the Earth, a small Hell,
where wraiths of love will shroud.
I won't catch a glimpse,
because I mislaid your ardour,
because I misread
the melodies from you,
and now I still recall these.
YOU ARE READING
Fall's Games
Poetry✦I am on the other side of the Earth, clutch in arms the pillow case, waiting for the heart to calm down, because I'm not capable to admit that I can't bother you with my questions, to show you I am not a little girl, that I can ask you about your f...
