She was flying Flying on the notes of harp Her tangled hair resembles The wave of the sound The curl that was never ending Her smile left a print on heart The print which was permanent How could I not get distracted? Her every word was poetry This...
waiting for a person with the key to unlock the real me giving warmth to mind frozen to be of my type and chosen sufficient to vibrate the soul alone without asking other in own tone understanding the words hidden in my silence removing easily my...