Diner
I have got you at the tip of my tongue,
at the end of my mind.
My fallen star which rose again and shines brightly,
enlightens my dreams, my way.
A feather you planted under my blade
has grown, has spread.
My angel, which I miss more and more every fall.
I am hungry for your voice,
your work and eyes.
Forever young.
Endless.
I was shaped with your words.
Tell me, would you drink with me,
to celebrate the fate ?
If we ever met...
Copyright © Danka Sikorska | Year Posted 2016
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