A kiss from me

A kiss from me has become a garland of rain
A handful of dried autumn leaves

I could never betray you with a kiss
My kiss is a burning feather in the wind

The Lord looks down with a sad heart
What kind of kiss is this that no one can feel?

What kind of kiss is this – a crisp, a dried page
But written on the page, written on the page . . .

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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