I caressed your face in a picture of you
with fingertips wanting to know
how the light fills your eyes.
Immediately my fascination turned
into a rushing drive
held perfectly in the middle
of where your heart touches the warmth
of all my memories.
These thoughts alone gather
to capture the moon,
can you not see me wrapped
in continuous seasons
when I walk under the same sky
above where you sit?
My mind wanders and I close my eyes,
wishing you were here,
my fingertips find your picture,
caress your lips.
Copyright ©2012 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
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