The poet writes on how it started
with a little white lie,
you know... the kind
when he says
she was so fine,
but she never
even said hello
Still.
I came to see
that love
is a wildfire,
making ashes
of the past
While clearing
those places
in the heart
where tomorrow
can grow.
I would count
the echoes
of her heartbeat
as she sleeps,
as if each one
was another promise
Cupid did keep
& when she awakens,
I fall again
into the shelter
of her love.
she would heal me
over time
not with a word
or a touch
but
by being there
where the tears start
& no one else
ever cared
to hear.
I searched for
any hidden meanings
behind
her Mona Lisa smile
but all I found
was the loneliness
she had forgotten
when ever
I was around.
I covet
the feel of her hair
brushing my cheek
as we kiss,
I yearn
for the warmth of her
when the sunsets...
but mostly,
I cry
for the sound
of her heart
to help.
#poetry #micropoetry #Sanguine
