Her fingers caressed
the dogeared page
of a second hand book
A note was scribbled in the margin
Tho’ the tome was tattered
and worn thin,
the penned words,
steadfast
Poetry, written for another
She fantasized herself
as the muse
In another life
Being loved,
this much
#FromOneLine
the edge beckons
born in brokenness
we from nothing spring
as one from two
woven together
with honeysuckle wishes
teased by the aroma
of nectar and spice
cling to sanity's threads
#BrknShards
reminiscent on a Sunday morning
the blank pages of my journal
staring into the same spaces
i am afraid to pick up the pen
as i know the evils it shows
when Saturday sins flow freely
reminiscent on a Sunday morning
#vss365
There is always one
you will never forget
Like a familiar song
Thoughts of them,
appear where and when,
you least expect
You’re taken back in time
You feel them in your soul
You know them by heart
Beat, by beat
And sometimes,
you can still feel their lips
on yours
In perfect sync