teatime defined
11:10 AM
0 comments

my fingers are breakable
like a family samovar
you lay before you on a table
alongside a baked rye bread
and spoken ditties to
call out eggs to hatching
felt hats
handmade

my eyes travel monologue
it's not because I don't
listen
it's that I see
conversation
flooding the streets
red dresses and
grey cloaks
buoying
people being
like
sea-born
figurines

my love seeps through every pore filling your teacups till in their plate they soar my heart beat-walks on tip-toe than gallops my desires grow into sea-weeds that stones blossom corals is a comfort a tell-tale-sign that every-stony-part-of-me will become

a

flower

of the

sea

,






eventually




Tweet

Шеќернолимонова
...јас секогаш во полглас ги изговарам истите зборови: „Јас ве љубам, Надењка!“