His eyes are as
green as money,
shining in the light
of human greed
and gluttony.
Though, is it so wrong
that such a person can
read mine like
pages of a book.
Can we just mention
how his voice
seems to sink in to
my soul,
Like the cool wind
caressing me in the cold.
His shoulders
as broad and as sturdy
as the work of a business man,
shoulders
that hold all my sorrows
but are yet to fall.
His teeth, like glass towers.
His heart a trampoline,
bouncing up and down
in his ribcage.
His hands
gentle and rough
like the uneven gardens
that are yet unknown.
He treats sports cars
like toenails
and people like dead skin
and smirks
as if he is the reason
my metaphorical
heart pumps.
YOU ARE READING
Afternoon Thoughts
PoetryHer head felt light in that moment, She felt as if was drunk on starlight, Her bare toes grazing dewy grass, Breathing in the sweet scent that was finally her.
