The Velvet Of Paradise

The moon was wet on that rainy day
It searched for shades in the clouds that swayed
The robes of silken light too rich to be drenched
The bewitching figure hides as the heavens sweat

Nothing spends like it’s purposeless exhaustion
When it’s feelings are tossed hot on a plate to cater
Only to be cold and stale when served later

The velvet of paradise
Hovering before demise
Intimate and empty
With a distance that grows plenty

My vague bad memory is refreshingly good
When it’s no longer a sapling but an evergreen wood

14 thoughts on “The Velvet Of Paradise

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