quarta-feira, 12 de fevereiro de 2014

how unbearable the light
coming from down under
your view

such a nice view
like a ship
growing nothing but distance

it's such a nice ship
never coming back; from the night
                       dark and smoothly

crossing an ocean unseen 
forgotten or mislead
it's the ship.

how come I've seen your hair - touched it 
and now as known
I'm lost...?

you, naively, grim.

Nenhum comentário: