deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ceramic hands and porcelain hearts
I hear a distant sparrow
almost a dream
her song bleeds through my ears
A passing dream where sparrows die
my pillow underneath her arms
and her eyes always buying my watercolors
drifting through her lips
all I ever wanted
one last song to end my agony
and your hands folding my skin into a butterfly
almost a dream
her song bleeds through my ears
A passing dream where sparrows die
my pillow underneath her arms
and her eyes always buying my watercolors
drifting through her lips
all I ever wanted
one last song to end my agony
and your hands folding my skin into a butterfly
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