Poetic

If you never leave You do not return It's a kind of magic To find your twelfth night In the perfect drug 01/02/2021

summer, rose, hiding Beauty, in the beast's yard getting closer she loved someone too pretty before the era of  soul mates before quitting coffee and cigarettes quitting colours mourning shadows that she called  happiness quitting poems and roses quitting Poe, Robert Burns and Jim Morrison they laughed indeed mourning the sacred moments mourning the jokes (July 2016)