|
| |
Stolen good-bye
The silence, filled with whispers of turbulence
Crashed against the tide of an ephemeral moment
Perhaps fate has a strange way of entwining chaos
And we're meant to tie its loose ends with muddy hands
The affinity to tangle even the simplest ties
Is perhaps what's most befuddling
Yet I stand here
Pondering on this connection-
With our fitted glances and stolen good-byes
Could it have been any different?
Copyright ©
Nisa Tahi
|
|