Monday, April 20, 2009

Two more shorts


Violins' curves
Like my daring silhouette
Take my hand
Let's dance under street lights
Spiral downward
Until we break
Cold words once burned
Yet now it seems weak
The moment; It is an illusion


Wild flower,
A ragged beauty;
A playwrights wanton desire
A closed bud
All is yet to come
Potential is all I need
To shake the foundations of your world

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