cold blue sky
deep cobalt, stark greys
the midnight air smells different
your hand feels warm in mine
I can't see the stars tonight
but I guess our words will suffice
hair billowing,
arms shaking
thoughts so lost we're hopeless
yet this dream
seems surreally real
so good yet that I don't want to let go
not until
the embers of day will burn our image away
YOU ARE READING
Almond Blossoms
PoesíaNamed after my favorite Van Gogh painting, I try to give some feelings words.
