The grass is speaking
The sound comes tickling me in my ears
just like his voice
When he touches the grass, it slips through
his beautiful fingers and
it touches his fingertips
in such a perfect way
We don't say a word
He lies down in the summer grass
it shapes his perfect body
and strokes his defined cheekbones
It's only him, me
and the speaking grass
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
The grass is speaking
The sound comes tickling me in my ears
just like his voice
When he touches the grass, it slips through
his beautiful fingers and
it touches his fingertips
in such a perfect way
We don't say a word
He lies down in the summer grass
it shapes his perfect body
and strokes his defined cheekbones
It's only him, me
and the speaking grass
