I have tasted your sent
In a warm glass
Of lemon tea.
Your sweetness held me
In a passing warmth,
Likened to the morning sun.
And so… I watched,
Sculpted by the wind,
My village withering
In the words of our past.
I have tasted your sent
In a warm glass
Of lemon tea.
Your sweetness held me
In a passing warmth,
Likened to the morning sun.
And so… I watched,
Sculpted by the wind,
My village withering
In the words of our past.