talked to that person
for the first time today.
his little crooked tooth
won't tell if he's bad anyway.
isn't it cliché?
if everyone is for the good guys.
who's gonna kiss the villains?
who will wipe their tears,
and find out all their fears,
who's gonna turn their kisses
into souvenirs?
will their love make it to the letters?
like stories of wars told by grandmothers?
i know how souls
imitate darkness
and its unseen being.
will they love like winter?
will their touch burn then linger?
will they tell sweet words out of whisper?
can they bribe me forever?
will they write my name in tattoos?
can they love like all the other hearts always do?
YOU ARE READING
trouvaille and sunlight
Poetryread my words like a love song sung at dawn; feel my words like a kiss on your hand.
