Black like the deep ink skies
Burning like the eternal fire in my eyes
Frost bitten like the end of your nose
Silently pound like how our heart beat flows
Tastes like your breath on my lips
Scented like a mountain’s tips
Images like those of me and you
Textures like those faded and new
Winds like a snake’s secret lies
Black like the deep ink skies
YOU ARE READING
I am...
PoetryI am a lot of things and yet, I am not you, and I am not that woman you saw today sitting in the widow of a coffee shop, sipping her tea. I am also not what I write or who I write about. I am me though... I know this introduction is long and frankly...
