There is a kind of gentler crop inside your beauty
for which I become so thankful:
maybe our world will wander in tasteful desire,
maybe you’ll grow tired of my tiresome verses,
maybe your emotional icebergs will melt,
maybe the piece of God inside us
will
transcend the potholes in heaven…
Let us prevail, sweet rose of my tender hierarchy.
Yes!
No hay comentarios.:
Publicar un comentario