We drift along through moss and moon,
the currents swift from love's typhoons,
skim fingertips through stirred up sins;
we never speak of daybreak things.
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 11:04 AM UTC
We drift along through moss and moon,
the currents swift from love's typhoons,
skim fingertips through stirred up sins;
we never speak of daybreak things.
Request permission to use this poem