You steal into my fitful sleep
Like a Trauco, and I am suspended
In a fugue state, not sure what is
Fantasy and what is reality anymore
Your craft is like a magician,
Your smoke and mirrors are your kisses
And caresses, turning my attention
Away from my life as I know it
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment