
With words that
dwell in my eyes.
A burning desire.
To feel your arms
around me.
And taste your lips
once again.
Not the stillness
of a dying river.
But of the fireflies
freed in a nightime
love garden.
What do you see
in the poets eyes?
With words that
dwell in my eyes.
A burning desire.
To feel your arms
around me.
And taste your lips
once again.
Not the stillness
of a dying river.
But of the fireflies
freed in a nightime
love garden.
What do you see
in the poets eyes?