Apparently blessings soon wither
Where your star shone
Reminisce
In the darkening sky
There's a Taj Mahal!
Undulating endless
Asimetry of
Love
Floating above
The placid
Waters
One
Glimpse ~
My wet hands
Kyoto protocol
Hair in a Thankfury
Violet Versace
And your smiling coasts
Me wrapped in a black coat
Lush lucrative dynamics
Zarathustrian imperative!
Covering your manly
Shoulders
Dig a grave in my
Hollow submarine
Diminishing distance
Was I, to call your firm hand's
Grip ~a lesser degree in Hiking,
Or a postponed poetic height
Thumbs entwined. . .
Spirited as a killer
Eagles mudra
You stare at
My profile
Well ~we stand
Opposing as a lovers
Of A grand Poetic
Name surpassing the time
Awaiting, courting, questioning
Via simile to the blood under
The Bask's barret
No, the ring I've put aside,
My hands are bare tonight!
Bewildered, I´ll stumble forth
within a bright new day to
complete your sermon.
You usually brake the cliche
Walking hand in hand
With Affar Authors
With Dead Spirits
With Alive Authors
Playing dead, unknown
Within the journalists eyes..
When they whisper
Wisdoms to your son's father
When they sturm und drang my sweetest
Sister
The softest spring is coming forth and
I know where to find you. In southern sighs.
Dreamy. Uncatchable.
Playing
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
Apparently blessings soon wither
Where your star shone
Reminisce
In the darkening sky
There's a Taj Mahal!
Undulating endless
Asimetry of
Love
Floating above
The placid
Waters
One
Glimpse ~
My wet hands
Kyoto protocol
Hair in a Thankfury
Violet Versace
And your smiling coasts
Me wrapped in a black coat
Lush lucrative dynamics
Zarathustrian imperative!
Covering your manly
Shoulders
Dig a grave in my
Hollow submarine
Diminishing distance
Was I, to call your firm hand's
Grip ~a lesser degree in Hiking,
Or a postponed poetic height
Thumbs entwined. . .
Spirited as a killer
Eagles mudra
You stare at
My profile
Well ~we stand
Opposing as a lovers
Of A grand Poetic
Name surpassing the time
Awaiting, courting, questioning
Via simile to the blood under
The Bask's barret
No, the ring I've put aside,
My hands are bare tonight!
Bewildered, I´ll stumble forth
within a bright new day to
complete your sermon.
You usually brake the cliche
Walking hand in hand
With Affar Authors
With Dead Spirits
With Alive Authors
Playing dead, unknown
Within the journalists eyes..
When they whisper
Wisdoms to your son's father
When they sturm und drang my sweetest
Sister
The softest spring is coming forth and
I know where to find you. In southern sighs.
Dreamy. Uncatchable.
Playing
For one very special poetic lover of poesis.
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