tell me darling,
tell me if she can read your eyes in volumes,
if she can paint your kaleidoscopic mind with unbounded passion,
if she can hear your soft whispers through wisps of wind,
if she can be the sanctuary to your troubles.
i can, darling,
be the carina to your draconis,
be your lullaby through your darkest nights,
be the quench to your aching needs.
🌟
now, before karma declares that
it's time for you to leave me and disappear,
let's recreate an invisible nirvana.
something that cannot be perceived
but only felt in the deepest realms of our souls.
let's pretend we own eternity and
reflect on each other's past,
in hopes to be in each other's future.
YOU ARE READING
quarter past three
Poetryyou were a memory of a boy that I never knew. or rather, a stranger in my phone book that I acted like I knew. and so it all began at quarter past three. credit to Arctic monkeys. [diary entries of Luna Amato]
