Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2010
Dust travels in soft tones through your eyeslids
a face of remarkable joy
hidden in between my fragile fingers
lingering waiting for you to hold
come by those old feilds
where the rumors use to grow
and breathe with me
to help me forget everything I now know
in places where we smile
places I never go
I hide it all undreathe conversation
its good conversation though
midnight prague
Written by
midnight prague
601
   Flower Scent
Please log in to view and add comments on poems