deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Darkness
It’s not your hair,
That brushes against your cheeks.
It’s not your eyes,
That glisten in the dark of the night.
It’s the way,
The way that you stare,
The way it burns me.
It’s the way,
The way you wear cruelty,
On that beautiful face.
It’s the way,
The way I love you,
When there’s nothing else left.
That brushes against your cheeks.
It’s not your eyes,
That glisten in the dark of the night.
It’s the way,
The way that you stare,
The way it burns me.
It’s the way,
The way you wear cruelty,
On that beautiful face.
It’s the way,
The way I love you,
When there’s nothing else left.
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