Aug 2018
We walked by
the wheat fields
golden flowers
citrus mornings
my hand in yours went:
I belong here.
You mumbled
something shy
sunrise yellow
warm and honeyed
and it went:
I love you.
the wheat fields
golden flowers
citrus mornings
my hand in yours went:
I belong here.
You mumbled
something shy
sunrise yellow
warm and honeyed
and it went:
I love you.
