Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
We’re going there-
where lips and eyes meet,
between waterfalls and fireflies;
I spin around in circles.

It’s home to you-
might not seem to be,
but the scent of wet grass and sawdust
almost moves you to tears.

You’ll learn it soon-
though you don’t want to,
life is a cycle, and you’ve stopped still.
Move on, but keep it slow.
the people are talking
daycrow
Written by
daycrow  19/F/ocean's rim
(19/F/ocean's rim)   
404
   Cloudydaze
Please log in to view and add comments on poems