her curls
were a wild flame
in the calm of her storm
she rested
head pressing sweetly
between my chest and arm
while her mind roams
soundly in the realm of peace
I trace her skin and think,
wondering all our dreams
we'll see together
YOU ARE READING
With Love.
PoetryIn a book is the best way to hide knowledge of the truth, through a pen hides the strength of therapy. I've gain much wisdom and restored much faith from this. I hope this brings growth to anyone reading; it was worked through me in very difficult t...
