our love doesn’t exist.
but i can tell you about our love.
our love is like gold dust in a miner’s pan,
soft and glimmering, sparkes lost in the world,
thrown haphazardly across the sky.
our love is warm like a summer evening and gentle like the cool breeze you feel when you
fly on playground swings.
our love is that pent-up feeling before a rainstorm,
charged air and a sense of something to come.
our love is like the rainstorm,
soft and loud and enriching.
it’s in the air i breathe, and i’d breathe it all the time.
our love is like blueberries in a red wagon
-aesthetic, cold and sweet.
i taste every time i encounter you.
our love is the curious look on girl’s face,
awkward and longing to know,
to accept this feeling.
the feeling that doesn’t exist.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
our love doesn’t exist.
but i can tell you about our love.
our love is like gold dust in a miner’s pan,
soft and glimmering, sparkes lost in the world,
thrown haphazardly across the sky.
our love is warm like a summer evening and gentle like the cool breeze you feel when you
fly on playground swings.
our love is that pent-up feeling before a rainstorm,
charged air and a sense of something to come.
our love is like the rainstorm,
soft and loud and enriching.
it’s in the air i breathe, and i’d breathe it all the time.
our love is like blueberries in a red wagon
-aesthetic, cold and sweet.
i taste every time i encounter you.
our love is the curious look on girl’s face,
awkward and longing to know,
to accept this feeling.
the feeling that doesn’t exist.
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