
I lie there looking
at the sinking Moon
far in the horizon
as she disappears
marking the end
of a warm and wild night.
I still can smell
the roasted marshmallows
of last evening.
I still can feel
the impulsive craving
in my veins as you
whispered my name.
Now I admire the snowfall
through the windows
as the sun rises.
I now want to expose
memories of last night
at the museum of my heart.
A serendipitous place to keep
my most precious treasures;
our whiskey nights
or midnight dances,
the words that triggered
the wave of lust that shaked
me upside down
and the fingers that rekindled
the fire in my soul;
the holy memories
of our own love language,
the one only you
and me can understand –
Our forever secret code
About the Creator
Diana Sol
29 years old fan of poetry and literature
Bookworn and a teacher
* Be the change you wanna see in the world*
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.