Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Descent


 My love lingers a desperate aroma,
Haven't the faintest why.
My visions are of white dressed cakes, a moon of gold honey
and children possibly. 
Death comes later!

A sharing perhaps.
I long to see your heart agree.
Probably not.

So sits me and my thoughts... hopes also.
Can I find someone like you?
Who makes me think of them as well...

Before the aftermath. 

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