it was eyes which gave a look
that seemed to hold a thousand stories.
slightly parted lips that would
tell them without a breath in between.
hands that would shuffle everytime
an emotion got the best of them.
it was the body of an old
soul that had yet to pass on.
YOU ARE READING
Bees, Pollen, and What Comes From Them
Poetry- indefinite hiatus - [ part of the 'free your body' tag ] · second poetry collection · "Flowers don't worry about how they're going to bloom. They just open up and turn toward the light and that makes them beautiful." - Jim Carrey create...
