The first taste was strong
– of coffee, that is
The smell wafting
The smoke lingering
Cup in my hand
Cup on your hand
Sitting in the bench
Along the beaches
The sun is setting
As we eye talked
This was how I picture us
Baring each other's
While the ballads on play
As my vision becomes blurry
How it felt etched
Like a beautiful memory
I kept wondering
Will this vision ever come true?
Mia Bella
05.05.2024
YOU ARE READING
Nocturnal Nights
PoetryNight time will always be your secret diary. (A collection of my poems, short stories and thoughts that comes from my restless mind when night time hits.)
