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loggi Oct 2018
Sometimes
I wish I had a lazy tongue
That would fault
Itself
And make it difficult
to blurt out my thoughts
And all my contradictions
In a hopeless posed way
like how leaves flutter
away and drift
Without a curious glance
or murmur.
Silverflame Mar 2017
Wherever you look she is there, waiting;
beautiful and cold as she is,
for someone to entertain her.

When the sleepy skies yawn away and
his golden locks take the podium,
he can’t help but notice only her.

He invites to dance, so she lifts her skirts high
and puts her transparent hand in his and
together they dance their crystal waltz.

He might entertain her only for a while,
because she will soon perish from something
magically beautiful to just another puddle.*

But despite knowing this, she does not mind at all.

— The End —