The sun may have set
And given way to your glow
But my hands they still see
Well between our distance
The pleasts of your skirt
Whispers of your scarf
Waging war upon my darkness
With your unintended beauty
The patch on your sleeve
Left stitches on my heart
Those subtle leather trimmings
Feel like adventure to my touch
The lines on and of your face
Soothe my dull aching hands
A river of chills thrill so quietly
Tracing, teasing quietly
The crook of your smile
Twist and tug my strings
Pulsing through our hands, closed
Their secrets and stories, too much
No comments:
Post a Comment