THE PSEUDO DISTANCE
night is on your display, as a glass of trembling
hand, moments of aesthetic touch, just
nearer to spill out, please let me
back to conscious, then
ask the consent
of my heart,
I know
the night is short, some more time, let keep the
hangover around the life, some dreams
have to stretch the delicate emotion
slowly, do not break the moonlit
flow, let feelings be soaked
into the nectar of wild
bloom, later you
touch the
soul,
still rawness is remained in the proximity, let
little more concentration in relationship,
otherwise it will break with slight
touch, let love to reach on
the extreme point of
natural craft,
after
only intoxication should react with primitive way,
