chapter thirty
"heart"
your lips are curtains
to your heart
your hands are doors
to all existing art
your eyes are windows
to the untold
and your heart is a
like a bowl
it holds the special things
but it can break with too much
to hold
so take mine,
the one you stole
because my heart is the window to my soul
— a.m
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gone with the wind
Poetrywith love care and literature, draining and negative feelings can be gone with the wind. HIGHEST: #64 in Poetry #2 in aesthetic poems #7 in spirituality poetry exploring spiritual and physical worlds and the emotional wellbeing of myself and other...
