30/M/Wherever
Gypsy Writer gothic into the darkness that protects me, mysteries, Finally A’ Free XV, dwelt in the cultivation of Dark Romanticism to Apocryphal Realism. Empathetic …
Angels singing could not have sounded better Than the first time I said your name to myself Hopelessly in love and wishing to breathe that name Against Your lips
You may hate it, but I’ve never heard a name I want to say As much As yours
It starts as a flutter in my chest Rushing up my throat and pouring from my mouth Like fog spilling over A hill At dawn
Sugar coated words whispered Over electronic meetings The morning birds join me In my Song