...
On the table by the window
admiring mountains,
there sits an empty flower vase,
gleaming like constellations..Stillness and quiet all around,
"Stroke and trace your fingers on my
skin and feel",she said
I pick apart the petals in my hands
...Piece by piece, onto the ground they fell......
wishing for a way back then.
..
YOU ARE READING
Me her ...tears/love?
PoetryDear reader Ever wondered what Love really meant... well the following poems are written for her by a stranger(me). Some unheard words, some left unspoken, some were left in me by her. It ain't about a broken heart instead it's about the word 'Love'...
