She feels like standing still and watching the clouds shift and dance while the world orbits.
She is the bright splash of crimson on poppy petals.
Being near her is to dance under the moonlit sky with grass beneath my feet.
The memory of silly faces and loud laughter at 4am.
She is the warmth of indie songs playing low while driving on winding roads.
The comforting smell of vanilla and forest, the soft embrace of a blanket.
She gifts baby pink roses and plays melodic lullabies at night.
She is like walking through autumnal woods, leaves crunching underfoot.
She evokes the vision of window panes painted by crystalline rain drops.
I am enamoured by the world around me because she is in everything.
The stars reside in her eyes, while constellations grace her cheeks, and the glow of the moon is trapped in the strands of her hair.
She is my universe.
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Wow, that's pretty gay of me
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Her
PoetryHer. She is the first girl that stole your breath and broke your heart. She is the girl at the bookstore humming to herself in the aisles. She is the girl who inked poetry into the margines of her notebooks. She is each girl you fall for, each gi...
