we don't remember
the yelling.
it's difficult to really
remember that
when it's difficult
to remember
your voice.
but i remember
your smell,
and your touch,
and how grass blades
on my neck
still remind me
of summer evenings
spent
with you.
but
i don't remember the yelling.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Şiirpoetry takes us to so many places, and we take poetry to so many places. here are poems about places, and sometimes the people found in them.
