Writers feeling
Sometimes I wonder,
how the ink swirls
in delicate patterns,
Upon the nude parchment;
Word by word it sews
Poetries and prose,
A cardigan of words,
Providing warmth
To the frozen veins.
Sometimes I wonder,
How he grazes my skin,
Kissing softly,
Like velvets and wine;
Pouring intense shades
Of wounds and smiles
On my fading face,
Replenishing winters
With spring in his hands.
Thanks for supporting!
No comments:
Post a Comment