Once,
Maybe twice,
Probably thrice,
He kissed your hand,
And then your wrist
And then your shoulder
And then your hair
And then your forehead
And then your cheek
And when he finally reached your lips,
You thought it was Heaven
And maybe it could've been,
If he hadn't done the same
With another girl
At the same time.
YOU ARE READING
Flying Away || Poetry
PoesíaPoems by the broken, for the broken. {Lovely cover done by @tinhovercarinice}
