May 2020
The night fills my lungs
with whispers ancient.
Singing in my ears
so fondly.
I'm afraid that if it goes on
I'll melt right there
in it's velvet touch;
for no one
but the night
has ever loved me that way.
with whispers ancient.
Singing in my ears
so fondly.
I'm afraid that if it goes on
I'll melt right there
in it's velvet touch;
for no one
but the night
has ever loved me that way.
Comment if you liked any specific parts of my poem. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
