Monday, 1 December 2014

She asked me

She asked me,
If I thought she could fly,
And the words,
Normally so eloquent,
They died,
I could not answer,
As she stood,
On the precipice of disaster,
The chaos in my soul,
Was this a premonition,
Of what was to come after?
Black hair,
Black dress,
Black desires,
Blacker dreams,
I went to sleep with,
Her silent screams,
Every bloody night in my dreams.

~Rei Shiori

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