The past is alive
moving beneath the cloth, Angels struggling to be bound
the insatiable thirst for youth
never wanting to grow old.
I thought about those mutilated nights we spent entwined in each other carving into our hearts the sullen pleasures of the flesh
pure love, in which I tried to make every single move one that could be for you
I saw God in you but the Devils got your eyes.
Searching for years to write the beauty of your love, now my being is leaking with passion and a lust for life because of the words i’ve found.
x
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
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