Dead nettles itching

I still want to experience

dead nettles, itching,

Murmurs of discontent gentle lips.

I do not give up even if the

I'm drowning here to emotions

jungle. me

provided it

word of power power,

writer to shield humanity.

Here I am, and this ice

caught hold of my words.

What binds me to this

the city, and the mood?

Joy, and love whether

the destruction of man, an emotional

Sweet?

Rain besieging the I

I go Tuulaaki dance,

there might be found.

I yearn for you, rush

beside you lose.

You can not wait for the moment,

that you tell him,

how much I love you.

I squeeze my lips together,

and the feelings inside me choke.

Throat rises on

tightness in the piece, not the source

out of my mouth no confession,

not my lips no oath.


Kiitos valokuvasta (c) Eeva Mirjam Oksanen