I don't know
anymore
words?
but mere letters stranded together
subtle hints
of winks and kisses
of smiles and hearts
are no more for me
but words formulate the most beautiful promises
which in the end
are just
empty
hollow
YOU ARE READING
Are Loving: Present Progressive
PoetryWith her fingertips, she traced the smooth, darkened skin under his eyes. "Eyebags," she noted. "I've been thinking," he murmured, "of you. The shadow of my thoughts is the ink which stains them." She paused and gazed right into those distant...
