These hiatus burgeons daily.
The air parches constantly.
The music we heard together is no more music.
The bread we broke together tastes
No more than bread.
All desolate, for your beauty died.
I saw your hands hold the glass
Waggled my heart stir with desideratum
A requisition I lost at the sight of your
Beauty that died.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 1:55 AM UTC
These hiatus burgeons daily.
The air parches constantly.
The music we heard together is no more music.
The bread we broke together tastes
No more than bread.
All desolate, for your beauty died.
I saw your hands hold the glass
Waggled my heart stir with desideratum
A requisition I lost at the sight of your
Beauty that died.