Monday, January 19, 2009

Untitled

Like a child's stargazing at brown cookies, sparkling with snowy sugars, through the magical looking glass of a jar. Some evenings, more often these days, he craves for intimacy, and comfort, in the voice and by the side of a familiar someone.

The couples on the street cuddle with whispery sweetness, and he imagines the warmth, the love tingling the skin. The ferocious wind beats a crestfallen figure, his eyes averting, refusing defeat.

P.S.: The eyes are like a looking glass, mirroring the heart's desires.

3 comments:

The Horny Bitch said...

ay... u yearning for love ah?

mrdes said...

In defeat, I'm shrouded in shame.
So allow me to explain
For like passing rain,
the weather will change.

The Horny Bitch said...

ah huh...