Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Fresh feels

Strange weather,
In the air,
Wondering what you'd do,
Now that,
The blond hair,
Is fading from winter,
Will you still be,
Into me?
Or should I,
Move faster,
Turn around in mysterious ways,
Now that skies,
Have turned grey,
Summer skin,
Has gone pale...
Yet my feels for you,
Are still fresh,
Golden.

Summer skin, gone pale, yet these feels, are fresh, golden. 





















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