My little darling,
blackened by the moonlight night;
somehow your skin is
falling into shadows, into shadows.
Little pieces of the moon
fall into your eyes;
the stars escape
into the curls of your hair.
The sunlight flowers of your irises
have gone out.
















Comments
xxxxxx
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You fill your day, most of the time, by being in the washing machine of your own mind, thinking whats this, when does it stop, am I enjoying it, I dont know, oh its time to go to sleep, I cant, Im worried.
- Dylan Moran
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~I am a writer~
you paint a wonderful image with words
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~I am a writer~
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~I am a writer~
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~I am a writer~
I agree with =CSnyder. It's wondeful.
--
~I am a writer~
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