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When she was the swimmer...
1 min lectură·
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I’ve written a few lines with your blood on my ceiling,
There are things I cannot convey, yet I try
Like your fingers clasped on shreds of this old skin
Which us not mine, nor was it me…
I close these perpetual hungry eyes that seek
Perfection or some other sort of perfected pain,
And I try not to think that I inhale you
You’re like water in my mouth and in my lungs
And I shall drown, I shall disappear…
Just like some lines that solitude washed away…
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Despre aceasta lucrare
- Autor
- Roxana Breazu
- Tip
- Poezie
- Cuvinte
- 89
- Citire
- 1 min
- Versuri
- 10
- Actualizat
Cum sa citezi
Roxana Breazu. “When she was the swimmer....” Atelier, Poezie.ro, https://poezie.ro/atelier/roxana-breazu/poezie/1774429/when-she-was-the-swimmerComentarii (2)
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