My dark friend,
She had the desire of youth in me, but I was too old, too tired, extremely sad.
She feels my hand gently and I embrace the smell of her skin under her neck exposing her white shoulder.
On that old bench, the happening between us was forbidden from the poetry world and allowed for passionate lovers
Poetry is created in a materialistic way.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To My Dark Friend (#Wattys2015)
PoesiaMy Dark friend, I have written those letters for you. It's getting darker before midnight .
