The beauty of her innocent - none of her grim.
Of a child, greedy to learn the world
Whose tenderness soften the blood of calm.
Remember those faces! they
climb up the highest mountain top and enjoy the touch by the sun.
Fighter of their own life, kissing the skin of the bare-bones.
I have seen her existence and thus sang.
How a feminity dance in the skies?
She cries.
The chin is being pushed by the weight of the mist, wavers
between - her and choices.
Celebration of the melancholy, art related subject that it is.
The haunted city was the creator of this emptiness.
Voilence yet infamed.
Insprited by Charles Baudelaire
*** *** ***
This is a poem from my mind after today's staring at a femlae body. This is an extraordinary homosexual experience - you see yourself. The touches were warm.
I hope you like my words. For those young and dripping hearts, this is how I go throught the darkness and survive. No matter how weak our link is, there is still moment we might catch up with each other in an unexpected situation.
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