It seems to
me that
truth
will never be
placed into
words
A distant gaze
forever into
oblivion
while faint feelings
cross chapped
lips
A wonted fomentation;
this fabricated
fancy.
Our stares seem
longer than
needed
Or maybe she
slows down
time
I can’t tell.
All I can do is watch
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
It seems to
me that
truth
will never be
placed into
words
A distant gaze
forever into
oblivion
while faint feelings
cross chapped
lips
A wonted fomentation;
this fabricated
fancy.
Our stares seem
longer than
needed
Or maybe she
slows down
time
I can’t tell.
All I can do is watch
