Sweet mornings like Sunday afternoons
A young man in his first love.
Inheritance of a responsibility.
Ancestor inheritance.
Each day.
A new ornate for a thin neck.
Maltese goat.
Like the deer, leaping like the servant of the field.
A serious and hazy portrait
What caused me above that neck?
Two piercing lights, looking for me from the beautiful windows
A sturdy wall of sheep of the whitest and most youthful wool saluted me.
What held us?
Between voices and jokes,
showcases,
floors,
tables,
chairs,
the orange bars of sunlight every morning.
Trees not far away.
Interrupting voices.
an apple bite,
The jokes.
It inspired green and dry leaves, crayons and wood.
I was her captain, she swore to me as she swelled heaven and earth before me, her panting lungs.
Fine tower, your crystals
Lead me with the five cords,
My ancestors did not honor
Did not light your double heart
Mistakes because you stopped me?
Would it be a truth, the one that was never with me?
Freezing black cords encrusted Water Stones
Icy splinters.
They melted to the floor
On the wings of a boy
five cords
They hung like birds
Sweet mornings like Sunday afternoons
About the Creator
Jeff R.
I am Brazilian. I study about normative grammar of the Portuguese language, creative writing, and I'm trying to learn the English language, forgive me for the errors of agreement.
How, Too
Many people wonder how, too. You are not alone, and I am an expert. I will teach you how, too! First, you need to remit a small application fee and fill out an application describing the nature of your financial situation and how often payments will be made, as this will have great bearing on how well I teach you how, too.
By Harper Lewis6 days ago in Fiction
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