After touring
blind twenty seconds of light almost always find a night stamped upside down on the tarmac of metaphors silenced. Sleep is just an idea not thought that he slipped out of the womb of a virgin, a white drop ageless, hidden fracture of the wind. No matter how many beds we sleep away if you throw in your dreams would fall in mine. No matter what I do not sleep tonight, when you open your eyes I begin to dream.
0 comments:
Post a Comment