"i'm bad at this"
was what you'd said.
but as i look
deep into the abyss
of those eyes,
i don't get it.
your spirit like a firefly
and your heart burning
like a bonfire in july
as we sit together
in the darkening hours.
sweet scent fills the air
and not a second
seems to be passing.
and i reply to you,
"no you're not,
you just think you are."
YOU ARE READING
ephemeral
Poetryi am so sure about you and i've never questioned that you're my one
