Sitting on the loading area of your old pickup truck
we study the night sky
and it's uncountable stars.
I've always tried to observe every little twinkling glimmer
but since you joined me I'm only making sheep's eyes on you.
And when you turn your head towards me
I get lost in that emerald green of your iris
and the deep black in between.
It's darker than the night
surrounded by that sparkling green.
Even the stars can't shine as bright as your eyes
looking into mine.
YOU ARE READING
Hummingbird 𓅪 // Poetry
Poetry„Hummingbird" contains the thoughts I couldn't say aloud. You'll find a collection of poems and short prose about love, hate and most importantly about all the whispers in between. If you haven't found your place in this world yet, maybe you'll re...
