Words slippery, falling on wet moss
shifting in the shadows of grown beards
lies a devil in a white dress.
Lost in the fog
appearing in your head
she wants to know where she is
and still you cant tell her
where your visions go.
All she needs to know is
shifting in the shadows of grown beards
lies a devil in a white dress.
I really enjoy this. May I reblog it in a feature I call “Sunday Share?” I will give credit and include a link! (Yes, I know I’m late with the whole Sunday thing. 😉
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That is certainly fine. 😉💙💚💛
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BTW, thank you. 🙃🎶🎶
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You are welcome! Thank you for sharing your words!
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