Here is some courtesy from the previous Rose Survival.
•••
(Lowkey usual small coffee place across town, raining)
•••
the bell-ringing
shows that someone delicately entering
but I could care less.
As I was stealing a view of her
is like heaven rained on me
like I have wings to fly
as if all the candle lights up.
Those beautiful eyes,
I would be lost in it.
those caramel skin,
inked from head to toe.
Pair of dimples,
so deep like the Marianas Trench.
effortlessly with her hair,
behind her pointed and narrow ears.
with that aesthetically pleasing plain gown,
and muddy old boots.
Shakespeare would be jealous of me
for witnessing such an innocent work of art
a fine art, pure heart
but I am not good enough to love.
Trembling,
as her lips touching the cup
her coffee-stained smile
makes me feel like
being alive is a miracle.
I can't abide by my thoughts
because I know,
winter will still come
and the rose will still die.
for witnessing such an innocent work of art
a fine art, pure heart
but I am not good enough to love.
Trembling,
as her lips touching the cup
her coffee-stained smile
makes me feel like
being alive is a miracle.
I can't abide by my thoughts
because I know,
winter will still come
and the rose will still die.
•••
-skyf