Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
She picked strawberries with her teeth, Red stains on lips blushed by the sweet taste Of ripe fruit; her fingers clean Brushed over me with delicate anticipation Lifting the loose fabric of a summer dress And I heard her confess her love Through saying everything Yet nothing at all.
0
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 7:08 AM UTC
Strawberry picking
She picked strawberries with her teeth, Red stains on lips blushed by the sweet taste Of ripe fruit; her fingers clean Brushed over me with delicate anticipation Lifting the loose fabric of a summer dress And I heard her confess her love Through saying everything Yet nothing at all.
oliviaautumn
Written by
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 7:08 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem