Pardon me trying to remember;
how the moonlight scathes your face
just like the way it studs the hilts of hills
and the frail coruscating tips of waves
my love for you tangible, front way back way
I am a terrible liar, I can think only
of the small things that fit in my hands
pear, basin, clump of xanthous leaves
your heart
our glasses touching a hopeful flower
patrons stumble-gawk by
us denileated: Standing in understandable
spacing, hips moving and later on
you wearing nothing but moonlight
with the winds retelling our scars
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
kuuipo.
Поезіяkuuipo ring for a wahine. i pulled an Irene and decided to write fictional poetry because why not.
