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  • Lost Love

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    Your hair, like night against my skin, deep, dark, fluid

     

    Your breath, like

     

    Your hands, like

     

    Your caress, like

     

    Your laugh, like

     

    Your gaze, like

     

    So long since I’ve had the pleasure of your hair, your breath, your hands, your caress against my skin

     

    To hear your laughter and sense your gaze.  Experience the intensity of your love for me.

     

    Why did you go?  Where did you go?  I miss you so much.

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Sodade’s Poems (10)

    Title Comments
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    You 0
    Untitled 0
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    Inside of Me 0
    Eyes 0
    Sleep 0
    Two Women in Love 0
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    Chopped and Screwed 2

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