I watch you from across
my bed
your legs crossed and eyes lost
and I've stood across you inside my heart
with my feet dangling,
hoping when I have to leave
you'll spare the floor beneath
some 70 year old poem in the back of my head
a verse for loving, another to being loved back
Somewhere the moon is mimicking your dimples,
Not here.
I hid promises behind the stars,
But the night petrified itself.
I see it all ending above
as the celestial love comes shooting down
You are unaware—You draw the curtains
But the soil does not sow light
from the night time
I pray that
the sky forgives my chest, for our
differences were too much
These shooting stars scream vengeance
YOU ARE READING
The Language of Rain
Poetry[TW :- CRINGE] Here, burns the bonfire of my heart. this is a random collection of poems and thoughts.
