Stella
I can feel this slight pour
Of rain
Outside
Like
Its touch on the grass
Its damp kiss on the earth
Its touch on the grass
Its damp kiss on the earth
Its rising
from the cross
Our
Vox,
Et
Praeterea nihil
That holds the silence
Of our even breaths
in the vacancy
Of air
In the coarsing light
The stellar,
My Celeste,
understanding
underneath you,
Is sadness,
In its quaint tone
There is always something
To seek
If
If only the sky can be true.
Comments
Post a Comment