Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Crescent Spins

Crescent moon,
lying here restless in this lair-turned-room.

Reminisce,
I surrender with each gracing gesture of your lips.
--
The Air of Spring,
did the moments mean anything?

You still clasp my hands,
I still touch your hair,
what we share is fleeting.

I walk around the vastness of my sensory explosion, and return once again to relish in reverie, mind fragments, knowing I will be back here, in this Moonlit Place

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