And then I joined him with
his card games, but he
stole all of the hearts away
and shot the moon.
And in the vivid heat of the
vivid moment
he slipped
once,
his rough hand palming mine.
It felt
soft
and
perfect
and
I realised that though
I did not love him -
not yet -
not then -
I loved everything about him
instead.
YOU ARE READING
Drowning | ✓
PoetryWhen Lota fell for him it was like falling off a cliff: drowning was inevitable. Poetry #45 [13.10.14] Romance #453 [14.10.14]