Time is still, the clock quiet as the hands lost the hours through the trees but memories linger in animation whispering to me in braille in a silent breeze longing for the key to the old tower for the pendulum's tempo
Have you listened to the rain whisper? Embracing solitude of the patter while listening to silence of echoes Have you seen clouds of the white horses? And heard the hooves of thunder Touching the soft silver of drops. Have your felt the splashes of gold Drip from an angel's halo? Beneath a waterproof umbrella While listening to silence of echoes.
Wooden building blocks and green pistachios. Musing and memories, helping me define the meaning of yesterday's boutique and old buttons. Old porch swings and broken pink flamingos in dreams. Waiting for love in limited edition and smiling as if in my youth. Glistening like quicksilver.
In my darkly morose of pallid obscurity with an affinity plague by curse beguiling in paucity of death's encore with withered woody listing to limbo coquettishly attired in chameleon waistcoat and powdered hair pouf
With an open mic how embossed the night with dark sleeves stained with omens no encore with garlands just shadows of pale with crescendo defined by screams and where there is smoke there are mirrors with breath's industrial waste staring in the depth of your eyes while at the sunset-bar the shadows are growing with an open mic how embossed the night
Curling around my shoulder with my love deep as a river like a rainbow over the Laurel skipping across water beautiful as a bridge with lights and heaven's breath of potpourri as the rain and river become one hearing echoes of stones
Looking at memories of endless dreams through the portmanteau at your smile adrift on the wings of endless dreams of dreams the dreamers dream where whispers flutter upon my tongue looking at memories of endless dreams lost in eternal twilight of love breathless in dreams, wandering