Too often have I thought of how my mind can be so obsessed, with the grace of your love, which keeps a fool like me possessed. Is it the palm of your hand, which holds truth in it like a palmist? Or your feet in the sand, leaving traces where we once have kissed? Surely, it must be something visual, something which will lose its attraction when the time carves its signs in thee. For if it is not palpable like a key, I will never unlock your perfection and will be obsessed perpetual.
Apakah saya sesibuk itu?
13 tahun yang lalu
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