Every time our eyes meet the orchestra of my anatomy is like a madman banging on a cymbal in a weighty fever crashing infinitely until I hear you speak and the intoxication of your voice lulls me to a peace of oneness and belonging
Oh how I hope you don't leave me after this moonlights specter has ended.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Penultimate Pleasures
PoesíaA collection of poems meant to embody the ongoing struggle of souls seeking shelter in modernity. (Let me know what you think:)
