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Zhavaed Haemaed Nov 2020
I look at you .. your countenance and demeneour .. how one eyes follows the other and curls of your hair address this courtship unknowingly .. and at a gaze when all at once, my eyes brush off your glance, . hiding in plain sight, what our gentle nudges couldn't hide ..

You do not say .. in fear and worry for what might, I do not ask .. illusions of my habits overcomes.. and yet, we nurture that infinitesimally small fire .. hoping meekly in our hearts .. that something or some force would cater to our reconciliation .. but it never does.
A courting by the falling snow.
-- Apr 2016
Pancakes
and french toast.

She had a sweet tooth
for mornings
laying flat
on her back.

Just like yours,
cotton wrinkles
indented on
freckles.

Saliva soaked
collarbones,
last nights
tequila
on your tongue.

He’d roll you over,
breakfast taco.
Kiss your neck,
turn it purple.

Smirk covered coffee,
smoke lingering
'round
chocolate covered
sleepy eyes.

All you've ever known,
simple sweets
and bacon grease;
she kept you
on your'
toes.

"I'll be back for the summer,"
and he'll pretend
you’re more
than just a morning
of goodbyes.

— The End —