my soul,

lonely,

a drifter,

aloof

dwindling scent of a jasmine petal

drowned in the sound of abyss

burning tongue,

taste of fire

 

your soul,

companion,

a guide,

a goal

blossoming color of a rose

floating on the voices of nightingales

sweet tongue,

taste of honey

 

night has fallen

resting my head on your chest

calm of an early morning lake

 

 

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Copyright © 2007 by giv arya