unworthy fingerprints
unstained of abundance
feeling
yearning
asking
a caressing
of the pearls
of your face
Yours
have twin petals
bearing silver words
Mine
Are dried leaves
speaking copper thoughts
on my knees
outside your gates
smelling lilies
growing on the garden
of your skin
the rag
in stitches
A pocket
A patch
In my heart
Waiting for
a tinkling
of you
[ listen ]
love is what is left at the end of the day.
From: melbourne, victoria, Australia
About me: i'm a wanderlust and a warrior of life. i have hordes of nomads and soldiers waiting to wander this sometimes barren and sometimes lush landscape of my head. i send them forth. they are my words. my weapon of choice: purple prose
posted by ciggy at 11:36 PM