alight
The moon is at my window again
papering my walls with her good intentions.
She tells me she loves me.
I tell her I know.
She thinks perhaps I had forgotten her,
but I never.
The moon is at my window again
papering my walls with her good intentions.
She tells me she loves me.
I tell her I know.
She thinks perhaps I had forgotten her,
but I never.
Copyright © 2012
Lisa B King. All rights reserved.
Web Development by
Imaginary Landscape, LLC