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I ran from you,
a skittish yearling...
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Kissing the moon is
impossible...
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Your smile,
the white queue of musical tone...
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I dream of you
in jazz...
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If I’m not all in
You can surely count me out...
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Who am I? Why am I here?
What is the Purpose of my life, my dear...
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White
(2)
1 by Golden AnGel Rhapsodist
White is never just white.
It changes completely the nature or appearance of...
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I still remember the awkward moment when we first...
That look, that froze me and rooted me when you...
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Your fingers wander up my spine
Piercing through hazy nightmares...
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You had big
violence in your bones...
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ever-present trolling social media
ever pressing searing avatar...
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I walked towards you and you turned around to hug...
It was a hug that felt that forever we are meant...