All of us have ghosts,
It can be a house
It can be a dream
It can be a what if
Mine happens to be you.
YOU ARE READING
H I M
Poetry"Blue eyes for distant Stars Honey eyes for Sunlight, We are the crashing of waves on sand Tree branches reaching for the bright sky We are where you end and I start; We were made to belong." This is a chapter in a book I am putting together. And t...
