and if only you knew how much she did love you when it lasted, you wouldn't have left. maybe. probably.
THE GIRL WHO SPIT FLOWERS.
a poetry narration book.
seopresso, 2017.
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you rushed to me, instantly. taking my left hand in your warm, soft, delicate hands, you caught my attention.
you always did.
i smiled, hoping that my lips curving upwards lifted your day even slightly, just as yours did to mine.
i looked at you with a look of bewilderment and bewitchment. you had me captivated in a spell of some sorts where are you hiding your voodoo doll?
the skin folded and wrinkled near your eyes as you smiled at me. lips pursed. your fingers found their way unknowingly between mine. tingles rushed down like electric charges, surging and being shocking.
did you feel it too? i hope you did.
with a cheshire's grin and a boy's golden heart, you said, follow me.
