Sitting in my father's car.
No one as said a word.
All you do is look the other way.
And I am just looking at you.
No feelings
No words

you are sweeter than pure sugar dancing across my lips
you are made of the sweeteners of life
the flowers in the garden of Eden
the foundation of the Earth
from the lands of milk and honey
to the land we stand on
to the air we breathe
to the sun that warms us
made with God's very hands
the heavens must have been proud after creating you,
the closest thing to a human angel on earth


©L.F.

Our stairs are made of wood
The trees that they once were
Probably grew nearby
One hundred years ago
When our house was built.

Maybe they grew in a copse on a hill,
Spent decades swaying in the wind
Tasted the rain, and the soil
And the carbon dioxide
Exuded by creatures of the forest
And people who lived among them
And those that would one day come
And bring them to the ground.

And now they bring me
To my bedroom every night
Where I doze quietly off
While inhaling the cool night air from the window
And puffing out carbon dioxide dreams.

Cannot catch my breath
Trying to come up for air
I drowned in your eyes

It feels like I’m in an ocean
And I’ve forgotten how to swim
And all my fears are tied to my ankles
And I’m sinking, no drowning
Reaching towards the surface
But grabbing nothing but the air escaping from my lungs

Food line, the air smelled of grilled halloumi.

A pair of light blue jeans and a grey hoodie broke the line.

The bluest eyes I'd ever seen met mine.

Starry sky, subdued bass.

His smile stopped time.

Seconds felt like minutes,
hours felt like years.

Tangled bodies, exploring.

Messy bed, a head on my chest.

Sheets of memories.

A morning of fake promises.

My heart, exposed.

"Left on read.."