All the night inside of me
is wind turning trees into thunder.
Sweet purple flowers
are like milky sparse carpets,
like when clouds and eyebrows merge
for brief moments of paradise.
My neck rests softly as the night bends,
I see you in the stars when I look up.
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
All the night inside of me
is wind turning trees into thunder.
Sweet purple flowers
are like milky sparse carpets,
like when clouds and eyebrows merge
for brief moments of paradise.
My neck rests softly as the night bends,
I see you in the stars when I look up.
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