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May 2014
Standing by the riverrun
a lone a last a everything
the mass was floating and unfolding
I was the engine she was the chorus.

Twisting about the bend
One fell one fall one everything
the mess was unfolding and holding
I could only touch her if she was nune.

Looking past the looking-glass
Her nerves her curves her everything
the miss was touching and forever
I be gone and be all by the riverrun.
My opening poem to this site.
Martin Kroyer
Written by
Martin Kroyer  Aalborg, Denmark
(Aalborg, Denmark)   
2.0k
 
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