sexta-feira, 1 de outubro de 2010

My poems: the spiteful

the spiteful

I close my eyes
when you lie
beside me
during sleep

it is grief
now that you’re inside me
in belief

let’s relive the past
once and for all
and be spiteful

there’s nothing quite like the morning dew
when it’s being swallowed whole
in a sort of darkness
that resembles us

what we are
now that it’s too late to stop
too late to stop the stains
is nothing like a symbiosis
but it is always a reminder
of what might have been

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