Every night, I look out of my window and wipe the mist from the glass.
I gaze upon the first shooting star and I wish for you.
Not for your body, no, I wish for your soul.
Every night, I stand up and walk away from the window.
I slip my fragile body into the covers of the bed.
My body turns to face your body, mine pressed against yours.
I wish, not for your body, no I wish for your soul.
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryTo be completely honest, it's just a load of randomly plucked words from the air, infused together with some punctuation and their job is to represent the bunch of emotion I, - a tired, caffeine filled, late night worker- threw together in hopes tha...
