Do you always speak in poetry?
...
Steamy breath swirls in the
Stagnant air, my hair hangs
Dusty smudges itching
Under paper skin
...
No, I breathed
...
Eyes shut, eyes open
The words dance, I hear their
Ethereal whispers, muffled
By masks and heavy cloaks
...
I miss you.
I miss you poetry, it's been a long time since I've actively been writing and something a friend said to me really sparked a flame in me again.