I pull you close, biting my lip as I look into your deep blue eyes. Just to laugh and dance out of your reach. I trace your face with my fingertips and disappear from view. It's my voice you hear on the wind whispering your name but I'm nowhere to be found. Gazes that last too long then ignoring your presence. Baby am I such a puzzle? An enigma maybe? A tease? I roll my eyes and step closer before walking away.
YOU ARE READING
Lachrymose
PoetryLachrymose /ˈlakrɪməʊs,ˈlakrɪməʊz/ adjective tearful or given to weeping. A collection of amateur prose and poetry illustrating the inner turmoil. Mainly a dumping ground for loose thoughts and ideas to be interpreted in whatever manner.
