You're like that black inked poetry on my wrist ,
You Paint me lavender.
You're a petition of desires hidden beneath my sleeves,
Inked on my skin like stars ,
Written in midnight poetry ,
So you're presence is never too far.
You're woven tapestries in my room ,
Or the citrus that burns so sweet ,
The smell that surrounds my covers,
On mornings buried beneath.
Pearls that hide my words,
Diamonds my heart denies,
Can they ever surpass,
The depth of those hazel eyes.
Encapsulated in words,
You're poetry in motion ,
Warmth of your rhyming,
Sets rhythm to my soul ,
Fingers conjure up thoughts ,
Unsend Letters that consist,
Each night Inked down in paras,
Your poetry on my wrist .
-ss
YOU ARE READING
Unsaid
PoetryIt was painfully worded , And beautifully read , The things that were written, Were those never said.
