Noris Roberts

My Nostalgia

My nostalgia is a lone sentence that may carry a certain fear
It is not always the same, sometimes at will it may caress my long eyelashes and
become pensive.

Sublimely forgotten, my nostalgia is a fettered sorrow
it is silent, it is weeping, it is a tightly tied parasitical nostalgia

It is not of wheat, it is a mixture of earth strewn with dust.
It is untimely, I have noted it, and then bloodstained it is the painful grievous
gesture of a religious suffering
It is the skin of night when a teardrop is welling

My nostalgia

Rezension I Buchbestellung I home III08 LYRIKwelt © N.R.©Traducido por Timothy Adès