When The Apples, Sleep Poem by Vasil Marku
When The Apples, Sleep
When the apples, sleep
My dream wakes up to reach your kisses sky
Instead of that dream I would love to be
hustled up of lust, two times humbled,
The buds of fingers lit up like stars
As the breeze drinks the night and still hollows
Maybe the apples no longer ripen
And I shall die under their shadows
Who knows
Friday, June 16, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: ballad
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4/19/2024 3:50:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
