Dec 2019
If my beauty was to measured by progress,
Together, we might not feel so hopeless.
Tounge tied, our whispers turned us tone deaf
—
To the ones we hold closest
Together, we might not feel so hopeless.
Tounge tied, our whispers turned us tone deaf
—
To the ones we hold closest
What if our progress as a couple had been measured by something deeper than physical attraction? Could we have grown into something more meaningful? This poem captures that bittersweet realization and the complexity of love built on infatuation.
