The AESTHETE
You are like a moon glade
Which I watched sitting by the lake alone
You are like serein
Who’s patterning sound reminds me of your tone
You felt like apricity in the month of December
An enoia I will always remember
All I want to know is how phosphenes look in your eyes
You are the feuillemort of a leaf, a leaf I would preserve my whole life.
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Featured image credits toK-E-Coverdesign on Pixabay
