The music played. Conversation made. His thoughts, his smile, his eyes, his brief intoxication- simply beautiful.
From a bloom he sprang. He reminded me of poetry. He reminded me of moments. Like sunlight streaming through a dazy windshield, the feeling of warmth when your cold and excited, or comforting chaotic vintage art.
Dusty pages torn apart. But somehow better than just a new boring book off the shelf.
I wanted to know him.
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Author:
Sunshinefalling (
Offline) - Published: January 19th, 2019 09:13
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- User favorite of this poem: whisperingquill.
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Comments1
May your wish come true.
Alas, I feel it shall not unless another comes to take his spot.
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