velvet caresses of purity on my cheecks so unbelievably devoted to the depths of this precious dream
so real. it might as well it might as well be. it might it might. it might.
candles flames when i sleep witnessing the spirit coming to hold my hand at night.
all around just sick brocken wings dragged over feets of lost souls
but your soul
your soul i can see & recognize
always so specular
and mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem