We put on a dress and the night is still in his infancy,
until his head is grayed out.
And we became like two branches that I messed with,
to the morning winds, north and south.
Until the morning light appeared,
as if it seemed to be blissful in excuses.
O night, you left without reviling, and
O morning, I have recieved a non loved one.
YOU ARE READING
The shark
PoetryThe shark does have tears running on his face, but he lives in the water so you don't see them and so comes the oceans to be salty.
