Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
ambita-krkicPoems
beneath my fingers: smooth, polished wood, a breath. and they long to make their way to the still beating of your heart. there, there, almost as if unseeing you look past me to flip a page, to paint color over words you must remember, yet unremembering--- i am here. sometimes i think you remember me. sometimes, like a shade of crayon appearing randomly in your hand, a soft hushed word. silence. no talk of fleeting butterflies today. no sound of your leavetaking. there, the long silence of an empty hallway. (for A) (in collaboration with jacob dominguez)
0
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 8:01 AM UTC
indigo
beneath my fingers: smooth, polished wood, a breath. and they long to make their way to the still beating of your heart. there, there, almost as if unseeing you look past me to flip a page, to paint color over words you must remember, yet unremembering--- i am here. sometimes i think you remember me. sometimes, like a shade of crayon appearing randomly in your hand, a soft hushed word. silence. no talk of fleeting butterflies today. no sound of your leavetaking. there, the long silence of an empty hallway. (for A) (in collaboration with jacob dominguez)
Written by
ambita-krkic
Filipino
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 8:01 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem