Loose skin wrinkles like the lines
That waves leave on the shore
having traveled legions just to lap the solid ground
Bringing with them gifts from the sea, Sweeping shells, bones, remains of lives that once were
Telling stories of the mysteries of our existence, of majesties from the deepest blue
And still, the story of you
is more beautiful, more mysterious, more magical than any I have ever heard
And yours is the only story I want to wear.
About the Creator
Emily Rojas
I like reading fiction, writing poetry, making bad puns, and hanging out with lizards. I don’t know how I feel about the Oxford comma, and that is probably my worst quality.
Keep reading
More stories from Emily Rojas and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.