I want your body sketched on my diary,
even though I can't draw.
I want the colour of your lips in my journal,
even though its shade alters in some days.
I want your colourful soul as my sheet,
even though you say you're boring.
I want your fingerprint in every inch of my skin,
for to cry on when you're gone.
I want the record of your voice inside my favourite cassette,
even though you hate your tone.
I want to trap your smell in my cherub perfume bottle,
even though you say fragrance is nothing natural.
I want your vibe inside my wine,
even though you hate your character.
Am I in love?Or just crazy obsessed?
You are just too marvellous for a human.
YOU ARE READING
OLD FILMS IN POETRIES
PoesíaIt'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.
