dimanche 22 février 2009

Letters from the heart...

J.

There is no blossom as J.'s smiles;
Starting in the silent kiss of our night
When the Moon is high and i the simple knight
And nothing but the leaves outside, to play the miles....

By the morning of her hands are blessed my kisses
And so dies, by the shape of her neck, peices by peices
Like little diamonds the breathing of a thousand souvenir
As she calls me back from her, and then, pulls me near...

Surely, i won't hold that love for longer than a breathing
Or keep that cold feeling, embrassing my sliding, fading soul
i' ll just stand for that selfish smile, when she has to warmly fall
Alone, someplace full of graces and pleasure she won't let me in....


A moment upon the Moon itself can't shine, for only does the Extasy
That blows out of her eyes, keeping at the door that lonely heart of mine
Alone, she will smile again, and that always kills me to see her easy
when being her only source of joy, i just remain, here, as a toy...on the line.


Me.