"costilations" poems
Little drops of his favorite coffee stained his body, residing as freckles.
They show their quiet walks, with massive dogs and shattered mugs.
They show the bright stars that dissapear when the fog creeps up.
They show the times smoke perched against his smooth, spotted fingers.
She aligns his spots like costilations in the twilight sky
As the sun stays longer, and those mornings are chirp, those freckles apear like April rain showers
They show their stolen kisses when she pouts her warm lips like a new born baby
They show each time she's fallen in love with him, lost within his eyes
Quiet morning couch, he grins at her and sips at his coffee
She starts to count
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 9:50 AM UTC