Palm tree beach
#1
Words fall to the floor;
you smile and leave coyly,
whisked away into the infinite.


Water up to the rim.
Flicking the glass,
it ripples.


Campfires and bags of rice,
whispering your name 
to the moon;
our lines aren’t parallel-
I’ll see you soon.
 
"My mongoose is coming."
Reply




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)
Do NOT follow this link or you will be banned from the site!