Beautiful dreams,
like your exhale against a breeze,
are carried far and fast away.
Happy hearts,
like distant stars,
will never see the day.
The light you bring,
a phantom thing,
that slips away each time.
Love that you breathed,
promised to me
could not, it seems, be mine.
-Emma Cooper
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 1:15 AM UTC
Beautiful dreams,
like your exhale against a breeze,
are carried far and fast away.
Happy hearts,
like distant stars,
will never see the day.
The light you bring,
a phantom thing,
that slips away each time.
Love that you breathed,
promised to me
could not, it seems, be mine.
-Emma Cooper
