Poems from V. L. W
Little dots are all connected,
all around the world,
How come that from all those stars,
Only some shine more and more?
I can't see the...
White imperfections on the skin,
Hard on the touch, shinny, firm.
Little white crescents, battle marks,
Bigger marble line, accident signs...
Seven is a bad luck,
Seven is a curse,
Seven means disaster,
Seven means the worst.
I love Sundays, 7th day of week,
A boy first kissed me...
I desired to touch the sky
But I am only Icarus
My wings had been burnt by the sun
Now I'm falling through the clouds
Ground seems hard,...