The blow of discovering we aren’t young anymore
hit us like crisp aged wine washed ashore.
We were naive once.. and young.
But we found our love;
In the kitten’s purr and the midnight’s blur,
In the crease of an old parchment
and the silent bellows of a country’s armament.
In curled up hair tucked behind her ears,
In floating words that were never said for years.
We waltz our thoughts and paint epics in dots,
We are debauched poets, tied in knots.
We made mistakes, and remade ourselves from them,
Ever so slowly we built a precious gem.
Behold, the bated pause - and kindly hold the door,
We are TLS and this is how we roar.
Share onTwitter Facebook Google+ LinkedIn
Leave a Comment
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *