Your face
Is the twilight corner of my self
Your touch
Revives thousand nights of longing
within me
Your eyes intrigue me
Like two books written in foreign
tongue
Their foreignness exiles me
Your lips melt me
Like the midnight falling of snow
Like the edges of stubborn rainbow
You come to me
Like spring comes to plants in shade
Like the comfort of a blanket
In the middle of a cold night
As you come
I am easily delivered
In the faithful arms of mourning
winds
Like the last leaf of autumn
No comments:
Post a Comment