#wanting-one-to-actually-loveme
On a patterned nebula, paramour's giggle whilst locking warmly hand's, like two stray's of a different course, they runneth by none command's, all promises filled, as their cheek's do touch, like flourishing rainbow's, heaven to ground's lunch. They maketh their own commandment's, as tis the world's just a stage, grandiose in their delightment, making newsstand page. Bambino's of the unknown, covered in flamboyant flakes, overcoming the new-age step's, of this passing place. And whilst they art simpering, their taste buds over-runneth, their cup is not made from steel, but gold of king's and Queen's chalice. And whilst at dusk, when the blood moon cometh out, the neighbor's canst heareth their love, out the window's it doth bounce. Echoe's of their novela, they'll speaketh many tongue's, and whilst their alone together, their embracing head on shoulder love.....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC