Am i allowed to write this book
though the language is not my own?
Am I allowed to walk through blossoms
from the trees your father has grown?
Am I allowed to slip my tongue
in the space behind your heart
where the flag of love lifts in the opening dark?
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 1:09 AM UTC
Am i allowed to write this book
though the language is not my own?
Am I allowed to walk through blossoms
from the trees your father has grown?
Am I allowed to slip my tongue
in the space behind your heart
where the flag of love lifts in the opening dark?
*Written by a charming steampunk lady with a typewriter running a poetry stall called 'Poetry While You Wait', Otago Farmers Market, 23/03/2013
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