What already sounds like a cult
needs no messing around
and is enough for me to astound
waking up from your vivid dream
in some muted scream
for which I am no adult.
Take care of what makes you say
you love me in such sensual way
so that many others get jealous
and forget where are the gallows!
Stroke me with it high and low,
I may still come to your rescue...
Who would I be if I left you
without idea of what you let grow
in nothing but a kind gesture,
the singing of a young wolf...
I mean to have it through year and year
youth and beauty seasoned from age
in an echo that is always near
within page after page.
25/11/2017
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário
Obrigada pelo feedback!