lluviadeabril
lluvia & rain
I know not how many
moments, lives or self-imposed
moments, lives or self-imposed
admonitions hold steadfast
in the delicate lining of a kiss ungiven,
left to wander the streets, uncertain
and forever weak at the knees.
I am, but a word
in the delicate lining of a kiss ungiven,
left to wander the streets, uncertain
and forever weak at the knees.
I am, but a word
buried in the travesty
of illogic, a phrase that grows free
only from truth so blindingly sweet
of illogic, a phrase that grows free
only from truth so blindingly sweet
it can only fall from your lips.
One that wants
and breaks at the top of the lungs
when yearn uncontained
when yearn uncontained
folds me in your touch.
In this vision that attempts
not to know much, I lose track of
the seconds where black
is dark in a step
and thoughts of you
In this vision that attempts
not to know much, I lose track of
the seconds where black
is dark in a step
and thoughts of you
speak in silent grays.
Drawing space in between
the spilled dreams,
wilted in the tired hour of strength
for a moment, a brief moment
Drawing space in between
the spilled dreams,
wilted in the tired hour of strength
for a moment, a brief moment
I stray in the scent
of your skin.
