I know you're tired of cliches.
I think about that when the sky flush's red and I wish you could see it too.
I don't wish although to tire your eyes with evanescing pigments, but I do desire to enchant you with anything I can find. When my neighbourhood is furnished scarlet, and leaves cascade with gentle pushes of the wind, I want to ask you if the world feels like a home to you. Is that a cliche too?
I wonder if you feel your skin change with the seasons. I wonder if you run you fingers along the grooves of a leaf and try to feel your own chemical changes as the months go by. Do you admire Its splendour? Do you admire your own splendour?
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC
I know you're tired of cliches.
I think about that when the sky flush's red and I wish you could see it too.
I don't wish although to tire your eyes with evanescing pigments, but I do desire to enchant you with anything I can find. When my neighbourhood is furnished scarlet, and leaves cascade with gentle pushes of the wind, I want to ask you if the world feels like a home to you. Is that a cliche too?
I wonder if you feel your skin change with the seasons. I wonder if you run you fingers along the grooves of a leaf and try to feel your own chemical changes as the months go by. Do you admire Its splendour? Do you admire your own splendour?