Landscapes
For scapegoats
Our oath
Was to escape
The absence of choice.
When your voice
Flows over
the radiowaves,
I tend to misbehave.
When you smile,
I dance for a while,
A rhythm, a style
That disappear for a while
Come out of the head -
With words unsaid
And a tension
Of hands refined.
You are a peak
Of a spotless mind.
Landscapes
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122071102731
Свидетельство о публикации №122071102731
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