You're still the air—
kissing, caressing
the creases of my clothes,
but trapped and restless
in my veins.
BINABASA MO ANG
Pareidolia
PoesiaMy wild flower I know you have thousands of thorns, but still I see your face in every petal and I love to plant you between the blank pages of my book. I'll keep you forever even you're not fragrant anymore.
