you will never know
what my skin looks like
when the sun has kissed it
how my eyes reflect
the summer sun
or how the soft wind
blows through my hair
because you left
before the warmth could come
-summer-k.f.
YOU ARE READING
his name was kentucky
Şiira collection of poems about the first boy i ever loved, and lost.
fifty
you will never know
what my skin looks like
when the sun has kissed it
how my eyes reflect
the summer sun
or how the soft wind
blows through my hair
because you left
before the warmth could come
-summer-k.f.