O’er looking your life from above,
Not as high as the clouds,
Not as chaotic as the bounds,
But just as that dove.
Sometimes glances were exchanged,
As if I were there.
I’d touch your hair with my eyes’ range
Only to find your hand
Yearning to escape
My love of sand.
-And down it crumbles along the beach of fictitious bliss
Dec 2, 2019
Dec 2, 2019 at 7:51 PM UTC
O’er looking your life from above,
Not as high as the clouds,
Not as chaotic as the bounds,
But just as that dove.
Sometimes glances were exchanged,
As if I were there.
I’d touch your hair with my eyes’ range
Only to find your hand
Yearning to escape
My love of sand.
-And down it crumbles along the beach of fictitious bliss