Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.
ineffable contours, that cannot be tamed with a wordy depiction.
Like water running through my fingers,
Ephemeral, and leaving me to linger.
Caldera, my steaming desire.
Instantiates a spy, that is ready to be set on fire.
Daughter of eve,
Carousel of dreams
You’ve drowned my angels
And left me to die in a reverie.
Nov 1, 2019
Nov 1, 2019 at 12:02 AM UTC
Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.
ineffable contours, that cannot be tamed with a wordy depiction.
Like water running through my fingers,
Ephemeral, and leaving me to linger.
Caldera, my steaming desire.
Instantiates a spy, that is ready to be set on fire.
Daughter of eve,
Carousel of dreams
You’ve drowned my angels
And left me to die in a reverie.
