I wake up.
To the smell of cinnamon incense.
I spread the cards before me.
They tell me a story.
A new one everyday.
Some dark, some strange, some fascinating.
I think I'm love.
With the world they build around me.
I anticipate the manifestation.
The fulfillment of the dream.
The Queen of Cups, she looks at me pensively.
To the smell of cinnamon incense.
I spread the cards before me.
They tell me a story.
A new one everyday.
Some dark, some strange, some fascinating.
I think I'm love.
With the world they build around me.
I anticipate the manifestation.
The fulfillment of the dream.
The Queen of Cups, she looks at me pensively.
3 comments:
I JUST came across this blog. I've been wondering what the link is for a while now.
I love it.
Makes me rethink Journo as a career option.
But then again, lots of things are happening in my head. Crazy ones also.
I love you but.
PS-Cinnabon date, when?
Good attempt though poetry is not for me
@Avanti: Hun, you should.
@Pesto sauce: Thankyou :)
Post a Comment