Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2019
Pink shirt, pink *******,
she's cleaning the shower,
hair up in a sloppy ponytail,
I  could watch hour on hour.

Looks as good now, as she did in school,
glances at me, through the mirror,
disappears behind foam, as she wipes it down,
but my love for her, couldn't be clearer.
The Fire Burns
Written by
The Fire Burns  M/Artesia, NM
(M/Artesia, NM)   
90
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems