What is it with the stars and the moon that you're so enthralled by them? Never once you left your eyes off of them, disremembering that I'm lying here just beside you in this tenebrous meadow with the crickets reprising songs of the ancient. Tell me, that I'm more beautiful than the stars hanging in the sky, and more radiant than the freckled moon who cannot even give you her entirety every night. Let me efface them from the night sky so that the only beautiful and radiant things you see are my eyes. Am I not enough to you? If not, bury me, then, in this anathemized soil, and leave nothing but your tears to fertilize it.
YOU ARE READING
Dark and Beautiful
شِعرSometimes my thoughts and hand bleed so much poetry I can barely stop them from leaking onto the paper. But sometimes, too, my heart bleeds too much blood that I couldn't write poetry anymore.
