I dream of you
when the clouds cover the skies
when droplets of dew kiss my feet
That earth singes my veins
seeping my streams with
tad bits of his story
Bronze shaped features
melancholy memories that only
you and I ever spoke of
We talked of the stars
etched picture perfect songs
into our highbrows
I don’t remember anything
I cannot remember anything at all
The only thing I can seem to make out
is you
Éloa 
Leave a comment