vivalamonica

If ever I am a bird, I hope that the thundercrack in your smile fissures bird from beak. You always say "those wings aren't fit for a chickadee." and I'd weep because my over-grown wings fit. You showed me who the real angel was.

Your words were like ships, unloading diamonds into love-struck eyes; forming zephyr's with your lips. Your words were like ships, but my fingers tell lies as they eclipse the necks of milky-white skies. Your words were like ships, unloading diamonds into love-struck eyes.