Pastel

Silent the night sinks
like a young girl into your eyes…
Timidly I paint you in my thoughts.
With a brush made of fire and pain.
I don’t want lightings in storm
but I want the rain to wash our faces.
To clean up sore wounds.
To wash up the insult, the whole!
Lets it rain! – over the ember burning!
Tender mist knitted of love
by my fingers with enamoured yarn.
You are painted by doves’ wings
in the white canvas of my dream…

[pete8242]

out of marks for being fucked up
1 being slightly barking
10 being dead body humping lunatic
id give you 11.5