I can't decide if you
are hidden within my thoughts
or stashed away deep
within the orifice of dreams.
Too much time goes by
before I taste the
warm rains of Heaven-
(there's still a drought)
I'll wrap myself in sepia tone-
confuse you into letting
me be your queen
of any day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It may seem that drought dries the heart, but it won't. Sepia...I like.