Tender English,swirl paintings,
hot coffee that burn the tips of our tongues.
Isn't this and you two wonderful things?
Broken fan,ticking clock,
Debussy on the record player soothing time.
The sunrise we missed at the end of the dock.
Paper planes,wooden floors,
the necessity of cold morning in excuse to hug,
we make love right here when someone's knocking on the door.
Feel like home,looks like home,
say,let's get married at the end of May.
Feeding your hunger with the smells of breakfast I serve on the bed.
YOU ARE READING
OLD FILMS IN POETRIES
PoetryIt's a film in poetry─A little lively,a little sad,a little death,a little pleasure,a little desire and wishes,a little rest and a little nurturing.
