They do tell -
beauty is only skin deep.
But still we see not the soul
- only pretty face.
And we don't know
- while the path is weaving freaky lace -
which way a heart desires to follow.
Spirit is dissolved
in words, steps and movements,
in shining eyes and trembling lashes,
in silent lips and timeless testaments
and even in sorrow of the old ashes...
Do you feel
a breath on your cheek?
My soul is calling for you - still!
May, 14
© Copyright: Марина Яблоко, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117030809639
Свидетельство о публикации №117030809639
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