We've danced between white sheets.
Our love is a choreography.
It's made of moves that flow gently.
It is as pure as Tahoe Lake.
We are here face to face.
Through each look, we see it's not fake.
Every kiss we give is a promisse.
Every touch remind us we're not lonely.
All words make our love to be chronic.
And, with my face in your hand, you come closer.
I bloom in a smile like roses.
I thank you for to be your chosen.
Being your chosen, I choose you as well.
I didn't say that, but you know very well.
My eyes speak for me while I'm enchanted by your spell.
YOU ARE READING
Cold days of a heart on fire
PoetryI should scream to the universe, But what is my voice after all? It is just one more between billions, And, with my death, it will not exist. So it is better for me to show what I need By writing my love, anger and dreams So I can make people see on...
