Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I the house was full of butterflies (the kind that make love) II and the night — an undeciphered song (our neutral flesh was a gentle bond) III the transient voice of solitude (I dream of death — and the cold fades)
0
Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 11:13 AM UTC
Untitled
I the house was full of butterflies (the kind that make love) II and the night — an undeciphered song (our neutral flesh was a gentle bond) III the transient voice of solitude (I dream of death — and the cold fades)
Ed1976
Written by
49/M/Almada
Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 11:13 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem