all these poems i write seem to be about you
so i try to come up with something else
but every time i start writing
my words go back to you.
your voice, as smooth as honey
whispering sapphire words in my ear
as we lay under a crystallized sky.
your chocolate eyes, a pool of
soft light like a golden horizon
drawing me in with your mesmerizing gaze.
i can still taste your sugar-sweet lips
pink as rose quartz
soft as the velvet cushions we rest
our heads on.
i could write a thousand poems
about you and still feel like my love for you
has still not been accurately described.
words could never capture your
onyx hair, dark as night
tickling my neck as you kiss
down my collarbone.
your love was the shooting star
in a galaxy of hope,
filling me with adrenaline
at the thought
of true love.
see, i've begun talking about you
again, despite my entire being
begging myself to stop.
i can never get you out of
my poems
and i'm starting to think i should
stop trying.
YOU ARE READING
poetry
Poesíapoetry is when an emotion has found its thought, and the thought has found words -robert frost. all poems are mine unless stated otherwise. just thought i'd give someone a taste of my mind. #4 in ode
