Page 7 - skein of wool aperçu
P. 7

My body
                 Is a shrine
                 That you dared
                 Step in
                 Without an invitation,
                 And when you left
                 It crumbled upon me
                 Its walls bled
                 Its soul ached
                 Longing for the artifact
                 You forever stole
                 Longing for past ruins
                 You forever demolished.


                 My body
                 Is a temple
                 Where cells pray
                 And symphonies are played,
                 So when I invited you in
                 It couldn’t help
                 But adjust
                 To your presence,















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