#thatoldchestnut
If by this time next year we are strangers,
the tide having carried you away while I stood by scowling,
feet sinking in the sand,
cursing the moon for betraying me,
muttering to myself that I wanted you to go
I will immediately hope to
forget
all those days when
Under bright daylight
in the just right mood
surprise tinges of gold line your eyes
soften your smile
and shine your diamond soul
through the room
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 9:57 PM UTC