Wednesday, November 4


You smile back at me from between my lines
So I keep penning you down
with words beautiful and serene, perverted and mean,
innocent dreams and shameless obsessions
I draft life anew in which there’s a “me” next to “you.”
My soul’s become a notebook scribbled with my broken flight,
birds’ wings and butterflies’ dreams
Banished from their celestial palace.
I trace your treasured features with quivering fingers,
scrawl memory’s grins across denied chagrins.
I transcribe my heartbeat. I write in my blood.
And reach for your smiles from between my lines.

Photo by NataliaDrepina

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