And your laugh
is as bright as the sun...
In rhyme, whispering, breezing.
It was unperceived for my ears,
like symphonies of an emigma.
I'm not a detective,
how to find your heart again?
In the winter you gave me your scarf,
being sew with frozen words.
I couldn't take this off,
permitting you to have my breath.
YOU ARE READING
Words Painted Blue
Poésie✦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...
