She sits there,
Her hand inches away from his,
Feeling his presence, feeling the calm.
The sun slowly sinks into the horizon,
Orange and crimson bleeding into the sky;
a warm gradient.
No words are exchanged,
Yet as they silently converse it speaks a thousand words.
His hand is suddenly in hers
And she smiles; subtly but it is bigger than a grin.
Hours pass and the bleeding sky deepens into midnight blue.
They lay back and stare up to the stars staring back at them.
The temperature slowly sinks but their blooming feelings warm the air until they are in a microclimate of their own.
He feels over whelmed with her but under whelmed with his expression of love
Whilst she is peaceful for the first time in a long time.
The over thinker and the under thinker.
They lay on the chequered, ageing blanket and love the world we live in. They fall in love with each other beneath the stars.
-holly boyd
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Double update ( ;
15 tomorrow woooh x
YOU ARE READING
Words We Cannot Speak
PoetryPoems; Woe and hope, love and despair Poems mend us, they repair. Broken souls mixed with broken minds, Poems teach us what it is to be alive. They offer thoughts to inspire. They give us hope to aspire, They answer unanswerable questions They offer...
