The troubled mind
seeks boundless words
for eccentricity.
You grab the hidden
kiss. Give me the smile
of a mooned heart.
At dusk you will talk
with eyes, trembling hands
igniting dry tips.
The troubled mind
seeks boundless words
for eccentricity.
You grab the hidden
kiss. Give me the smile
of a mooned heart.
At dusk you will talk
with eyes, trembling hands
igniting dry tips.