Stormy sky,
Rough winds,
Lightning dancing
over the dark clouds,
A silence to breathe,
A break to mend;
A cool scent of warmth—
You and I, over a cup of coffee.
Our pain tattooed under our full sleeves,
And the rain washing the dirty window pane;
To start yet again.
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A/N: It's not raining here, though. But would you like to have a cup of coffee? Send me a vote and tell me your favorite coffee, and I will make it for you right away! :)
YOU ARE READING
the slow art of breathing bitter
Poetryslow dancing love and pain in the midnight chorus of liquor-washed autumn green ... || a constellation of destructive poetry ||
