poet
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I used to be a poet Until I fell in love I used to be a poet And dream about putting you into haikus Singing sonnets about your smiles Iambic pentameter about your interactive love and rhymes I used to be a poet And use the colors of the rainbow to describe you Your skin
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He made me return to writing poetry. When we talked, it wasn’t violins that played, but sonnets that whispered on his lips. I could feel the letters moving in my heart, not yet taking shape but there, waiting to be released. He had been everything I asked for. And yet… We were here. Letters, locked.
Wandering & Wondering 