x. THE DEATH OF THE SKY.
you, out of all people, made me realize the true beauty that hid behind hills as the sun dipped into the liquid yellow that dripped across the sky. now, when my eyes watch the sun bow goodnight, i'm reminded of the cemetery that our love is buried in before i'm stuck in the rebirth of dead satellites and broken stars.
YOU ARE READING
what tomorrow brings.
Poetryxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
