At the end of another night, making my way home
Even through the thick of the night’s heat
I could smell her sweet scent clinging to me
Honeysuckle, not noticing the subtle Rhododendron
I’m only a couple blocks away when she phones me
She said that I forgot something, without any details
I check my pockets and everything seems in place
However, I do return to her, just to make sure
When I arrive she is holding a clever grin
She said that I forgot a kiss, and she gave it back
Shared so many that evening, I must have dropped one
It was late when I first left, I really did have to go
It was all the cute antics that kept me coming back
The fact that she was herself was what I truly adored
YOU ARE READING
Blue [the Chronicling of an Era]
Poetrythe title says all, I was sad and I wrote, poetry. It's a love story turned horror film.