The wind whispers and the moon listens your touch is with me still, as evening sky hangs thick on every cricket's song. worlds of promises falling like whispers spinning, twirling through the wind, kissing at my neck, teasing at my frame of mind. quiet is the soul of a moon that always listens. quiet is the heart. holding onto promises that slip like silver water, dropping like daysky into night. 18 may 01 M Madison |
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