He felt like the sun.
He took its rays
and curled them
around his fingers.
He put his perfect hands
on my soul
and he felt so warm,
like the August sun.
And when he burned
too bright
and hurt me,
I still smiled
because I loved the sun.
Now that it's gone
everything's cold.
And what I wouldn't do
for a little warmth
right now...
YOU ARE READING
After He Left
PoetryAfter you left, I wrote you poems that you'll never get to read. Now you're still gone and I'm still writing the words you never got to hear. -------------- The poems are somehow connected, although they can be read alone. This book was actually in...
