In the midst of knives,
I was a slave to the sensations he gave me,
Longing for him felt like unquenched thirst,
Every drop tasted like aged wine of different flavors,
How can you crave something you just had?
Maybe we belonged to each from the start,
From the very beginning when we didn't know each other's names,
When our souls met,
The strings attached by themselves so easily,
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She never felt this flame before,
Insatiable without the high of narcotics,
Desiring him so deeply was something she could never truly understand.
YOU ARE READING
My unsent poems (for L)
PoetryThere is a famous quote by Plato, "at the touch of love everyone becomes a poet." This book is about the art of romance between two characters. The art of figuring out what the character is feeling, characterized by an overwhelming desire to be wi...
