We were lying underneath the trees when you told me about your dreams. You said you wanted to live in a place like this. You wanted to be part of the wilderness, to feel the cool breeze when you woke. You wanted to hear the birds when coffee is yet to know you. You wanted to hear the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows on your afternoon nap. You wanted to feel the rawness of the earth as it tells you what it is to feel lost in the woods, yet still feel at home. You said we would plant our own food, and you would build us a fire. And when storms are raging, we'll build a fort with our sheets.
YOU ARE READING
Trinkets
PoetryIf you want to read without the commitment, this is the perfect book for you. You can open it and read a few excerpts once in a while, or you can read it in one go. The entries here have various themes which may confuse readers as it confused the wr...