if you could speak
like the wind blows in the summer
the sweet skin of the peach
a bleeding wound in the keys
your warmth like the sun
a mark from the aching storm
how i wish the night never ended
so our time would be forever
let the night run through us
and become one in the silence
the heart of the morning
reigns into our open mouths
YOU ARE READING
if not human
Poetrythe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
