Two fingers to my wrist when I looked at you,
The pulsating heartbeat with your eyes of blue.
And the cliché’s said you could swim in the colour,
But I was flying into the heat of the Summer.
Feelings were hidden, tightly disguised,
Caterpillars cocooned in my stomach birthed into butterflies.
And as their ****** wings fluttered, I began to mutter, that maybe there’s more to this spell I was under.
Your hair like cinnamon; your palms like cotton,
The hold of two bodies began to soften.
“The lovesick feeling turned into healing,” I spoke,
“You were the scent in my incense, dancing in the smoke.”
I watched your fingers curl into mine;
On the map of your hands, I unearthed our journeys along the lines.
About the new truths of my world, my mind scattered and curled, oh, how beautiful to fall in love with a girl.
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 6:09 AM UTC
Two fingers to my wrist when I looked at you,
The pulsating heartbeat with your eyes of blue.
And the cliché’s said you could swim in the colour,
But I was flying into the heat of the Summer.
Feelings were hidden, tightly disguised,
Caterpillars cocooned in my stomach birthed into butterflies.
And as their ****** wings fluttered, I began to mutter, that maybe there’s more to this spell I was under.
Your hair like cinnamon; your palms like cotton,
The hold of two bodies began to soften.
“The lovesick feeling turned into healing,” I spoke,
“You were the scent in my incense, dancing in the smoke.”
I watched your fingers curl into mine;
On the map of your hands, I unearthed our journeys along the lines.
About the new truths of my world, my mind scattered and curled, oh, how beautiful to fall in love with a girl.
Request permission to use this poem