Sing sweet babe
I really love you
You see mundanity from the best of views
That farmhouse tucked into that hill
Behind the dark wet forest
Her blonde hair made you blind
Diamond studs too twinkly for a safehouse
I know you felt right here, till your gram got shot down
Dark eyes don’t lie, kind eyes, too well; they cry
Newness is now, trust can happen
Scars do stay, I think it will be okay
The pregnancy wasn’t showing but I felt it so deeply
Future roundedness of her body
Something beautiful and melodic is nestled there
Umami and fatty, forever on your menu
Unashamed to be all new
Naked and waiting
Tired and still we are running
About the Creator
Sammy Huntley
impulsive poetry, original artwork, occasional fiction, and musings for an eccentric lifestyle
IG @neonpioneer
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Hall of mirrors
Things used to matter, before all the noise. And at that time when things still had meaning, there had been dreaming too, when dreams still mattered. And the brightest dream from those times was full of mountains and seas and smiles and the types of passion that absorbs you the way a dog is absorbed by witnessing something for the first time: with absolute presence, and awe.
By Giulia Viti4 days ago in Fiction
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