The strange beauty of the
singular things...
even though a little plaintive,
even though a little sad,
you search like a soft knock.
What do you seek?
It whispers like sea-wave foam,
caresses with no denies
like an airplane cruising silent mysteries of the skies
like the comfort of a clean night
whose path is paved with moonlight
neither cold nor warm
just beautiful
Silver you speak...
tears me to the bone,
touches everything.
whisper-sing to me alone,
although I'm too weak
and don't deserve
anything.
Marcus 09/02/05
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário