ROSE QUARTZ
The ocean seemed endless
with days feeling unwanted,
there I held the pink stone—
hoping to find the love I wrote.
On a beach, on my shawl,
I count nights and syllables.
You came in two months then
not long after, I have what I wanted.
Poetry within you—
a touch better than my books.
I write the smiles and tears,
you calm my pretty little fears.
And in your all and none,
you know that you are my one.
Your golden touch to my rusted door—
beyond shadows and poets, I am yours.
YOU ARE READING
PETALS & THORNS
PoetryA collection of self-written poetry that summarizes the writer's month.
