The Writer and Her Twilight

12

Your love was a song-

a melancholy collection of melodies

written by the broken.

Your love was a story-

a fairytale, 

magic, 

with a happy ending.

Your love was a flower-

a crimson rose, fully bloomed,

just in time for spring.

Your love was a place-

somewhere I've never been,

but felt like home.

Your love was time-

that midnight of New Year's,

both a beginning and an end.

Your love was the most beautiful feeling-

a desire for one sinful night with someone

who could never be mine.

C❤️