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Literature Text
If stars are wheat fields,
The moon – a scythe; we shared the
Harvest festival.
The moon – a scythe; we shared the
Harvest festival.
Literature
a letter
dear you,
when you feel smallknow that there has to be
someone in your world
or only outside it wishing
you would notice them.
that's just
how life works,
whether you like it or not.
while you are looking far off,
skimming the ocean in your head
to the horizon holding secret wants
you believe you'll never touch
burned and buried
in that sunken, dying star--
someone out there has fallen
deeply, unwaveringly
in love with you.
for instance, it could be me.
I could be--
am
in love with you.
hypothetically speaking
of course.
will you--
I mean,
would you take a ride with me
if you knew? would you walk away
from futile watching atop your
r
Literature
softened
the sky whispers,
ribbons of crystalline quiet,
same shade as the angel dust
you shivered every time we were
alone.
in the darkness, we were
sorry birds searching for
open dawns. you, the
swan, me, the
raven,
black as night and
just as hopeful.
and there were poems
written in your skin, universes
blooming in your hands; your eyes
were a December sunrise saving me
from any sleep.
I’ve decided that
people are a composition of
all their greatest memories—and you,
you were always the most
beautiful piece of
me.
Literature
*Lonely Walk*
Desolate shore
Empty windswept beach
Grey ocean surge.
2014 Delice1941
8th February2014
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Thanks for the DLD feature! It is much appreciated! Daily Literature Deviations for January 27th, 2014
© 2014 - 2024 IvanRadev
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