we sit at the top of the world
looking down at the town we call idle
cross legged and light hearted
delicate fingers clasped around our escaping youth
music, words, sunlight
my hand in hers and her hand in hers and i swear
i could die in this moment and feel immortal
YOU ARE READING
little poems
Poetrythese are little poems that id never love enough to show [lowercase intended]
