my shadow
runs through
you makes a long
nostalgic tongue on
the beach … must I miss
you when you are really here
I feel your spirit speaking to
me making little welds on
the veins picking up
feelings in his
hands like I
was a beach
my emotions
the pebbles he
handles reading them
over in the late summer
sunset when the atmosphere
mellows and motorbikes pass by
like drunken bees … feel him holding
me like a distant memory of something
yet to happen … the sadness bends
me like a willow bough … that
stretches its back … and
like reality is warp
by a feeling I can
no longer think
straight …
00.51am , 28.08.12,/29.08.12. , 2.57am © Lizarikk
29.08.12. , 19.05,
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