walking in slow strokes, so i can keep an eye out. becoming dreary, the more i walk home alone. i can just feel a shift in the warm, muggy, after rain air. so i turn around and see you, searching for something out of your reach. i walk towards you, in slow strokes. your eyes stop searching because what you were looking for was right in front of you the whole time, under your eye level.
// m.m.
YOU ARE READING
Dactylic
PuisiPoetic Rant Book Series - #1 A collection of poetic like sentences and, or small poems. Plus, a few poetically put rants. (lower case intended) 8/9/15 - #46 in Poetry
