The taste of stormy weather – K. B

The taste of stormy weather

 

 

O demons,
My love,
O holy night
Spent in fever,
My mind is running tricks,
Residual poverty
But millions in my mind.

O demons,
O love,
Walking through the night
To reach home,
Dark streets
And flying leaves.

The kind face opened the door
While outside it was all roaring!
O demons,
O love,
O holy night spent in fever.

 
K. B

 

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