Yesterday,
for no reason I see,
as the smoke
curled up above
my gray lips,
my thoughts
went back to you—
the first time we
held hands,
and how your face
went red,
as though on fire,
when I pressed
a kiss
on your small and
pale fingertips.
for no reason I see,
as the smoke
curled up above
my gray lips,
my thoughts
went back to you—
the first time we
held hands,
and how your face
went red,
as though on fire,
when I pressed
a kiss
on your small and
pale fingertips.
Oh, how you squeaked
and buried your round face
in my weathered coat
afterwards.
and buried your round face
in my weathered coat
afterwards.
Yes... I do.
I do.
I do.
I do.
I do.
I always remember
the way I felt and
still feel
when my thoughts,
for no reason I see,
go back to you...
the way I felt and
still feel
when my thoughts,
for no reason I see,
go back to you...
to you...
-
Author:
Bells (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 2nd, 2026 03:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
So simple, so innocent and the same innocent simplicity is echoed in its rhyme that compliments it so well. Very nice and a fave
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