For the momentary glance
For the right color
in the melancholy of lovers
For the honorable sweat
in the wrinkled sheets
Don't speak.
Listen
Guard your knife.
for the inevitable moment
I know
There is no redemption
on this trip
I have seen it.
When the dream
lost its scent
the nightshade will have died
N.Sigma
photo Sunrise forever, https://pixabay.com



























