Only after I met you
Did I dare to acknowledge
The existence of
Present perfect.
A lonely tree
Craves a caress
No one but you
Can give it.
Silent partition.
Cover your face
With a scarf
Made of neon.
Let the city lights
Beguile you.
Ideas jump out
Like memories
From a wooden
Box.
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 8:53 AM UTC
Only after I met you
Did I dare to acknowledge
The existence of
Present perfect.
A lonely tree
Craves a caress
No one but you
Can give it.
Silent partition.
Cover your face
With a scarf
Made of neon.
Let the city lights
Beguile you.
Ideas jump out
Like memories
From a wooden
Box.
