Black is what the prisons are,
The stagnant vortex of the hours
Swept into totality,
Creeping in the perjured heart,
Bitter in the vulgar rhyme,
Bitter on the walls;
Black is where the devils dance
With time within
The creviced wall.
So she sd, if u lose me, u lose a good thing.
and he sd, u’re right
but there are so many good things
what cld the loss of... NEXT DOOR by Lani Mataki.
