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Flecks of dust illuminate
          your eyes in the mirror of the Jag.
The sky's written with your name
          in the ink of the octopi.
You couldn't ever care though,
          because you're in love with the next petrol station.
It's only certain days, 
                  I see you walk the platform
The sight of you,
                  only frustrates me to the core
The absence of your name,
                  brings the torment to depress.
You had me grasping the lamb's wire,
                               divided by walls and timesed by anxiety
The issue hovers round your head,
                          like a horde of dragonflies
I' am still on high hopes for you,
                          eyes of mine that freeze in the minute.
                               
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Frans Erasmie
Frans Erasmie, 10-14-09
Beautiful
... ...
... ..., 05-08-09
Absolutely stunning!
Toni Josephson
Toni Josephson, 05-02-09
nice!
 
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