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Love In Small Doses


By The Rogue ScribePublished 5 months ago 1 min read

Many yearn for holding hands, but I've a preference for your fingertips. Romance is best felt by the lovesick; just a bit.

And no, I don't completely lose myself in your eyes, so much as I do in your glances. All my joy, a stop-motion film, when I picture you dancing in the living room.

And while soon after it's easy to recall your perfume... It's no match for your hair and its divinely inspired aroma. Subtly paralyzing; you would think I'm in a coma...

But it's a period of just hovering.

Just savoring my favorite aftertaste of your shoulder blades and collarbones; like ghostly undertones.

You should know I'm impervious to "sticks and stones..."

Words aren't my enemy.

Not when I enjoy the precious melody that your velvety lips conceal... Your words are lyrics for me to feel more than just five -

I feel fully alive. That must be a sixth sense. And it only seems to make sense when it all barely escapes me...

When the moments are fleeting -

When I squeeze through the door as it closes -

And I'm received with love in small doses.

surreal poetrylove poemsinspirationalart

About the Creator

The Rogue Scribe

Writer. Narrator. Author of 'The Art of Patience, Gratitude & Courage'.

I share fresh, fantastical, and sobering stories that either celebrate or challenge this wild world. Go rogue with me, and subscribe to support my wordsmithing.

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