Your essence hides in spaces
Between words;
Your have an effervescent presence
That can't be measured or put into scores;
In the reflections of the mirror
I see your features and your view,
They're like freshness of the meadow,
That glows with morning dew...
I feel like I'm a chest of drawers,
Collections of mundane impressions,
In my mind's eye they're never over,
Or go out of fashion;
They intercept and sometimes mingle
In sweet coincidences - poems,
You'll never guess, what they will bring,
And where the conclusion goes;
Your essence hides in your minds eyes
And speaks itself in Freudian slips,
Whichever reason will suffice
To be as witty as a whip...
From Note: https://goo.gl/ScG4Hc
Your Essence Hides in Spaces
© Copyright: Ирина Стародубцева 3, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119041503136
Свидетельство о публикации №119041503136
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