Dull eyes reflect a crescent moon
Her profile outlined by a street lamp
Barefoot on rocky asphalt
Wih hands stuffed in her sweater pocket
She wonders what it'd be like
To touch a man made of stars
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Author:
ElenaGrace (
Offline) - Published: April 21st, 2017 11:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
Offline)
Comments3
very good visual and imagination
I generally don't like to be touched often, but I definitely enjoyed this poem (:
Very good write.
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