Saturday, July 7, 2012

Out Off Remote

We sheltered our souls out of remote
where empty vine glasses smells like grape
All broken objects
sorrows and depths
driven from the past in lost suitcase
made me a coil in love with a flame.
Growing in distances by guarding solitude alone
He dare to ask the question:
Will you loneliness shine different if my solitude light your way ?
Lydia Lida Simic