If there was only enough time, in the final minutes to bury a box; I'd bury it with you. I would collect things that were significant to Life, our life
By Cara Aruilio4 years ago in Poets
It’s not the fear of loneliness It’s the thought of the most imperfect human not being with you The most imperfect human that is ever so perfect to you
By Cara Aruilio7 years ago in Poets
Think of me Only when the days are long and the nights are young Awaiting the desertion of my soul Think of me Only adjacent from the candle lit dinner
I miss the smell of snow. The smell of the brisk air, that twitters down my spine. The dullness of the air accompanies my soul during the night;
Perfect strangers That of all we are. Look and stare; you know me and that of me. You know my eyes, how they dance of darkness and light your world.
One year comes and goes. One simple year those made me forget you. One year, one date, that is edged in my mind That will forever haunt me.