Poem

 

i count the syllabes

of your laughter

and wait for the lines breaks

of your long deep breath

​

i may be a writer

but you're a poem

​

when i am old

rather old and grey

i want to fill my lungs

with your perfume

​

i may be a writer

but you're a poem

i may be a writer

but you're a poem

​

don't ever play, don't ever play the game

where you kiss, where i hurt

you will run out of lips

you will run out of air

​

i may be a writer

but you're a poem

i may be a writer

but you're a poem

​

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