My half moon lips are shy
But your arms are branches
Keeping me in your warm embrace
Safe from this harmful storm
Anxious is my mind that scatters
On every normal day
But now it rests
As you cradle it with heavenly speak
I bring my knees in close
Cozy is your embrace
We don't pay attention to the lit screen infront of us
Only to each others laughs
And smiles that glisten
Deep breaths like the wind
Inhabit my lungs
And this drum that is my heart
Speeds up tempo
"I'm so happy"
Is what escapes my lips
As yours meet mine
YOU ARE READING
The Petrichor
PoetryPetrichor / pe trīkôr / noun a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather. Dry heat Suffocating humidity The harassing thoughts In this long period I'm tore down Until... The first rain. And...
