ℜ𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔰𝔪

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢

The girl whose eyes were so warm and comforting

and her hands so soft that held gently

every little flower of spring

and caressed them 

with adoration

was my first love.

She held

the entire universe in her touch

the tips of her fingers were magical

for my skin would lighten in her hold.

What I felt about her was all mine to know

and something she never had an idea of.

The mindless beauty of her kind approach 

and her breathtaking smile,

were all mine to devour.

She was

serene yet had a rage 

as that of a forest fire

her voice was music to my ears

her wonderful ideas and small glances

would make the world beneath my feet crumble.

she was

euphoria in human form

so beautiful that the moon would envy

I'm a hopeless romantic who yearns

I'm just a poet who just writes about love

the one she'll never know as the one I am

for we had really little time left before we parted

just the few delicate hours in which I was

realizing my love for her.