III. Mismo
The love, the hate, it all comes from the same lithe spider.
The same deceptive flower-stem eyes.
The grotesque and surprising hands.
The crooked, quaint, and wicked smile.
The guarded and chased heart.
The loved and hatred, burning then burned out.
The matches once burning bright, now painted black, withered but forever intertwined.
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Color | A Collection of Poems
PoesiaA Collection of poems, each one describing a color without ever saying the word. This set also includes a few extra poems as a friendly surprise/gift! Enjoy!
