tiny broken pieces and a faint memory of you

you-eighty seven

I don't really know how to make poems
but when I glance at your eyes that so deliberately looks like it wants me,
when I glance at your longing lips that once was quite the opposite of my enemy,
when I see your cute nose,
when I see your hair that once tangled all my secrets,
I think I have an idea.
and one moment you knew,
I have already made millions of poems for you