Paper Swans

Silver nights and paper Swans In dark spaces where fireflies  use to glow. Why the cruelty of smelling the rain, only to feel no wetness on my face. I miss the feeling of the moonlight on my skin. The Thunder keeps me up all night, but I don't mind that it's my blissful insomnia. A little swan made of paper to many times you cut me with your edges, so I will burn you. Goodbye paper cuts left by tiny paper shaped swans I smell the rain again and this time I will feel it on my face, I will spin around and around in my rainy shower. I love you I will whisper to a tree, I only dream of knowing all the secrets that you keep.