You are something that I cannot convey with words. An aesthetic creature that occupies my mind. Once you are in, illiterate I am. A mysterious filament of the light I keep in me.
As I am expressing my subtle opinion, another thought comes. If stars collide, the sun fades, and I am dead, would a touch of ash reminds you of what you have done?
YOU ARE READING
Someone Else's Angel
PoetryA collection of thoughts and opinions of an ordinary people.
