Lying behind succulent lips
dressed in tiny pairs of wings
paranoid of consigning their souls to the skies
for the sun is briskly fringing their limits,
below them lies reflections of broken tongues created
by inkling souls
petrified to let pungents' of truth slither through to
my heart
because they know that it needs not beauty but endurance to sturdy,
the truth.
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 8:38 AM UTC
Lying behind succulent lips
dressed in tiny pairs of wings
paranoid of consigning their souls to the skies
for the sun is briskly fringing their limits,
below them lies reflections of broken tongues created
by inkling souls
petrified to let pungents' of truth slither through to
my heart
because they know that it needs not beauty but endurance to sturdy,
the truth.
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