Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
the contour of your brow was made for me,
for me to press against my lips as I breathed your scent.
when memories of us surface, I must willfully forgive.
but sometimes I'm lost in one of those pure moments -
and it overtakes my senses
and no time has passed
and I feel your skin
and smell your hair
and feel the yawning space in my chest where my love was so sweet it was clichΓ©
Amanda Neufeld
Written by
Amanda Neufeld
Please log in to view and add comments on poems