The kisses are not the things that matter
Basic chatter in a crowded room that seem to lead a conversation
But the things that mean the most –
Words whispered with closed eyes
Smiles still playing around those lips brought on by words heard through the night
Words spoken that they might make you smile or
All the while lying side by side and silence
Feather light touch that means there is not much left to say.
About the Creator
Emily Layton
writer, filmmaker & general liability
@emilylaytonpoetry
Keep reading
More stories from Emily Layton and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Love Forboding
The chipped stone slope caused unbearable footing. I slid, skirting on my heels. I cast my shield, relinquishing my guard to stay upright. Left with my double-edge and a prayer to the maker, I skated toward my objective. The earthly stubble gave way to solid ground. I found myself restored, a trail of dust in my wake.
By James U. Rizzi2 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.