Love Poetry Collections (SEASON 2)

1

None of your eyes can hold your form,
Or my hands that could easily be feel beside a far fun.

But, I believe I know there's someone, a great strength and life streams,
Beyond the bowl of kiwi's and cherry soup with mixed of tomatoes,
Together they are left scattered in the dead air,
It must be you who's being forever well for me.

Dripped dropped stopped,
Calming my ways very much alike,
It grinds and goes upon,
It should always be you who dwells and keep a soft short secrets.

None about my lips cannot hold your existence,
After you speak my lips, spoke the rest when we're asleep.