The past is a blur,
at least to these boots.
We keep counting days
and made a trail towards
december mist.
We hit are bikes on the city
near the sunset steeple.
It felt right.
We had to scream,
it felt right.
From a second story,
the sunlight is a painting.
Giants in the fog,
and my backyard in Venice...
Make yourself at home,
it's all you can do.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment