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daphne
Poems
Sep 13
the dust on your fingers
and me?
i was the dust accumulating on a book he once loved.
unobtrusive in nature, but ubiquitous all at once.
a small presence that often goes unnoticed.
when he reaches for the book, i will linger on the tips of his fingers for just a moment, filled with a fleeting and embarassing sense of hope.
the hope that he was actually reaching for me.
Written by
daphne
20/F/somewhere in asia
(20/F/somewhere in asia)
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Ben Noah Suresh
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