To touch the night
Is to run your fingers through silk;
Is to dress a child in rain;
Is to taste obsidian;
Is to wear a dress
If beautifully bloody silk,
And parts of rain;
To watch the child of the night
Weave it for you.
YOU ARE READING
The Old Composition Book
PoetryThis is just a collection of many poems I've written, some date back to when I started writing in 6th grade.
