The monks laughed in my direction...
Turning to look at the noises,
I could smell the wet roses...
Raindrops kissing my feet as I ran...
Up to the coffee shop,
A wet book in my hand,
I sat down to the brewing cup...
A crooked smile on my lips.
Mornings spent wrapped in the heat,
And the evenings worn off by walks,
As the night started to sneak upon me,
I would look to the moon that you look upon.
The corner lamp shone through the misty window...
Darkness enveloping me in a warm embrace,
Nightmares of unfinished business,
Cuddling amongst insomnia and nightmares...
Between love and lust lies this poet...
On thin lines...
Indifferent to taking sides,
Too curious to make a choice...
