I stare at his beautiful, perfect face.
I long to touch that face, to be held in those arms.
I wonder what he dreams of.
Does he dream of my touch?
Does he dream of holding me?
I reach over the edge in hopes that your hand will find mine
But all that lies between us
Is the cold, empty air.
YOU ARE READING
My Poems
PoetryLiterally just a place for me to post random poems Attempting to keep them organized by nature/ theme Posting new ones when I have them or when I feel like it
