Still are the lips, the eyes are still
In love with that denied by will.
In many days may joy still last
The past that die, the die that’s cast.
Will I resist, will you let go
Of words unspoken, sweets unknown?
The thoughts kept secret, tied and “no”-ed,
Those vibes and energy that flowed.
May time go by the way we did
Just as the childhood leaves a kid…
Still I will have a sacred spot
To grow a small forget-me-not.
And when the fingers touch the screen,
Its sparkly sheen I’ll gently glean…
To give without what’s kept within
Has been my one resisted sin.
Still are the lips
© Copyright: Томас Кромвель, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125051300381
Свидетельство о публикации №125051300381
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