segunda-feira, 13 de abril de 2009

Precipice - As I fell, felled, wasted and wounded

I breathed
Inhaled and exhaled
The air, the balm
Your soul drew Inwards

I was fast and bound to your nudity
And ever more
You depicted
So precisely

Intimacy, I hope
Is not a crime
For which I've got
No excuse

To call you a Muse
As I endlessly peruse
The depths and debts
Of my Imagination

Procrastination

Your glare
And glance
Long I stare
Your single dance

Can't see no Aim...


But if You're there -
I'll attain.

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