My grandparents had something special. No one quite understood their bickering like they did; nor their unusual ways to show love without actually saying it.
When my grandfather passed away and I saw how torn she was, sobbing at his hospital bed when he took his last breath, it was honestly the most beautiful sight.
Soon, she too passed -- a broken heart.
Their funerals was like witnessing poetry unravel.
I've faced a lot of deaths in my life, since I was a young child, but --
I'd never seen Death be so beautiful In that moment.
And I knew I wanted a love like that.
--- Ink and Wander
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Floating Feathers - poetry and prose
Poesía💜🤍🖤 Playing with floating feathers is what I do now. This is small book of miscellaneous/random poetry and prose written with the lens of a demisexual person; writing about love and relationships and overall approach. 🖤🤍💜🏳️🌈 For more poetry...
