til your heart defrost,
before your hands become so icy.
how long will i had lost,
for everything to be so precisely.
til your hands become less cold,
the minute each lie escape from your lips to unfold,
til the leaves become so crisp in the fall,
when the trees say a call.
when time is no longer consistent,
when your lips become rather repetitive.
will you then keep in your distant,
and things wont be so competitive.
written by AfrikanGoddess
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also not completed
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Everything My Lips Never Said { fast updates}
Poetry" this is the many poems my lips failed to say, which has caused others to stay away".
