Aug 2018
An October night
With skin as our blankets, beneath
The windows screens, no longer white
A sudden chill, a rush of hope
With silver skies out a windowsill
And the time to cope with life
We sleep, of sorts, with minds awake
And bodies lying still
With skin as our blankets, beneath
The windows screens, no longer white
A sudden chill, a rush of hope
With silver skies out a windowsill
And the time to cope with life
We sleep, of sorts, with minds awake
And bodies lying still
And how is that? Thoughtlessly flowing in a general direction with ease.
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Sometimes I prefer to not change a thing, or to even reconsider a change.
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Sometimes I prefer to not change a thing, or to even reconsider a change.
