i remember it about as clearly as those Fall mornings you used to love
the ones where you can't see the hand in front of your face
because of the fog
yes
clear as clouds come to Earth i remember
the last time someone called me beautiful and i believed them;
YOU ARE READING
Today, Love: An Anthology of Self
Poetryit's easier to define certain mysteries by what they are not
Autumn
i remember it about as clearly as those Fall mornings you used to love
the ones where you can't see the hand in front of your face
because of the fog
yes
clear as clouds come to Earth i remember
the last time someone called me beautiful and i believed them;