Her gaze burns its silent dream into the timeless visions of my soul. Bound in flights of rapture, I am the captive of her beauty, the present stillness hiding within her voice’s music.

She has broken my heart’s gate, and now, when I take a step, her pollen pours forth from the wound, and my tears flow like the knowledge buried in night’s core, where, alone, I dream of her impossible return.

Jan 16, 2012

025293

Facebook Post

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *