Ruined by the way he smells,
it’s been almost eighteen years.
Still, I am ruined by his smell;
a soul forever close to my soul.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
Ruined by the way he smells,
it’s been almost eighteen years.
Still, I am ruined by his smell;
a soul forever close to my soul.
You are far from me
Yet you are so close to me
Your hand touches me
Yet you are continents away
I saw you that day we connected
I was inside your head
Your alarm was mine
Yet you embraced our special gift
I know your thoughts, and you mine
It was the fates playing
You’re with me until the Fates know
Yet I love you being here
I touch you with my lips to your heart
It turned our spirits alight
You showed me the red flower
Yet you never said a word
I vowed to meet you in a week
It was the happiest words
You agreed to meet me in a week
Your happiness ripples
I cannot speak
It is done