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.
Copyright © alicha Du plooy | Year Posted 2016