Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
514 · May 2019
yours
purple beams May 2019
You strip me bare,
crawl under my skin,
and worm into my brain.
In a blink you’re mine,
I’m yours.
In a blink you’re gone,
I’m yours,
still.
473 · May 2019
Paris.
purple beams May 2019
Why does the sun shine
on empty branches?
The wind rustles the grass
like I rustle my guitar.
Wish the clouds could
take me to Paris.

— The End —