"words on the paper
stayed just words,
figuring out later
they were like chords
played on the lonely piano."
♡︎
her hair wasn't that short as they had been, she had to hold them so they would've not disturb her from reading. i was wondering why she hadn't cut her banks yet. her two fingers held them behind her ear, the one which had a little mark on it. i wished i could touch her hair just to make sure they were really that soft as i thought.
i finished another poem while looking at her attractive short black hair and her hand in them. it was time to give back 'the notebook' which i had been reading for ages. i had always found an excuse not to continue and i had kept it one more month than i should've. so i placed the poem between the pages and walked to the counter.
the girl hadn't moved an inch the whole time i had been away. it was really adorable she didn't mind the people around her, not even me. she was lost in her fantasy unlike anyone else. that was one of the reasons i had chosen her as my poetry. and in her own way, she was the poetry.
