Читать книгу Trailing Stardust - n. d. prude - Страница 8

Your existence weighs heavy on my heart,

Drips down like vanilla in high noon,

My God,

Who wouldn't want to water you?

Nourish you?

Experience you?

Love the parts of you that dance in the abyss as of the Psalms of David?

These feelings of mine are righteously being placed before you,

Only with the sweetest intent.