Morning waits for dew drops; leaves, for sunshine; a child, for lap; eyes, for tears; lips, for smiles; deer, for wild wild winds; soils, for the rains; lust, for our union; thirst, for the waters of yer love; my hunger, for yer body; lilies, for springs; night, for the moon.... And my thirst grows. Too thirsty to drink from yer hazel eyes.
Come.
Come.
No comments:
Post a Comment