Love Letter to My Future Wife

Draft 5.6.2

Swaying in the night,

Passing by the buildings that make up the central walk,
Passing the glossy storefronts in search of sustenance.
Passing the faces that make up this compelling landscape.
The end of the chamber features entropy laden cups,

to go along with the cool air of this compelling landscape.
Writings of distant lands are strewn about.
When shall we cross the threshold?

The day there was no blizzard,
and the line was short
Was the day the spheres began to lose their altitude.



For more articles by Armädeius Galouei, click here. To get in touch with this writer, email armgalou@surrealtimes.net.


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