"imagine if everything wasn't opaque," she said.
we were under the vast sky now asleep. i closed my eyes as the stars humbly wait to witness my response.
i've been mum for quite a few seconds and i'm still not giving an answer. i thought, she just asked me to imagine, not to reply.
i tilted myself sideways only to see her hazelnut eyes, laser-focus on me. right off the bat, i pictured perfectly what she asked me to imagine—it's when her eyes spoke what it genuinely felt.
oh how i melt staring at those eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Come Home
PoetryHe would exhaust every piece of him just to write and write for more. And, if these words won't be able to reach her nor won't they be enough, his words implore nothing but one last request: please... come home. Limning vivid pictures through intric...
