Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Into the arms

Is there a word other than love
To mean and color things beautiful?
Is there a real reason why the sky is blue?
Other than reflections of earth and water?
Is there a word to describe this wild need,
this rush, this explainable necessity
like a fight for oxygen
to rush into his arms and just stretch enough
to die on that exact spot?
Is there?
She asks herself every time they meet.

No comments:

Post a Comment