When the ink kisses the last traces of my words,
So exquisitely penned,
My putrescent heart hammers one final beat
Because the perishable is ethereal
We never do water artificial flowers.
So I smile
And breathe in eternal obscurity.
Like watercolours
I fade away
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
When the ink kisses the last traces of my words,
So exquisitely penned,
My putrescent heart hammers one final beat
Because the perishable is ethereal
We never do water artificial flowers.
So I smile
And breathe in eternal obscurity.
Like watercolours
I fade away
