I am searching for poetry in words that lingers on your lips. Poetry that will be my strong morning coffee in chill of winter. Maybe someday I will collect all those words and some paper will be lucky enough to feel their rage. For now I am tired, feeling unloved, empty for the lack of words has landed me into grief that feeds upon my energy and nothing can help except conversations, naked voices and untangled words, with sweet dance of feelings on your lips.
The Puzzle Maker
PS- while thinking about title I realised I can start a series on it. 😊😊😊