CRINKLES AND RIPPLES OF SILK, WOVEN THROUGH MY FINGERS FRESH LIKE COLD MILK. SHOW ME YOUR SOUL AND I'LL BE EVER SO GRATEFUL, YOU'VE BEEN ROUGH AS COAL AND OH SO HATEFUL. SILK YOU SEE SLIPS FROM MY FINGERS BUT DRAPES ME INTO AN EMBRACE. SPILLS LIKE COLD MILK INTO THAT SEA. A SIREN SINGS OH PLEASE, BUT YOU ONLY SEE THE SEA TO SEE
YOU ARE READING
Touch me
PuisiBeauty is everywhere. But you must learn to see it. A collection of fictional poems. **All poems are written by me so please do not steal or take credit for them
