a ladybug salsas
on your index finger
I stare at this seamless merge,
nature, you
me cross-legged on the quad
I'm dazzled once again
by the contradiction
your bright brown eyes
the sadness that lurks behind them
I want to kiss you
but you're distant
busy running mental marathons
I'm here in front of you
ready
three years
too late
No comments:
Post a Comment