she
the moon shapes my smile and she knows it.
she gives it to me despite my scars.
i am stripped to the toe, but she caress my body,
her touches gentle, a feather in the wind.
i cry in her loving presence, i sob in her knowing gaze.
and she smiles at me through the clouds, never changing.
YOU ARE READING
youth
Poetrywe grab onto our youth but we never can keep it from slipping away from our fingers.
