She's beautiful.
Her hair, her smile, her dimples, her style.
She's everything.
To be in her presence:
I would be speechless.
The warmth that glows in my soul
When hers shines so brightly,
She takes the words from inside of me
Sings them out into existence
Pins them on the page
While they flutter away
Into my tummy
Where they fly when I want to be
In her arms.
Looking at her face
There is no part of her story I don't want to explore.
Regardless of how much she gives,
I'm always left wanting more.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Hailey Marchand-Nazzaro and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Devil's Cut
“Comrade, finally you’re awake.” The voice was smooth, sensual. A flickering incandescent bar was all that lit the white, sterile room. All Vladimir remembered was everything going black. He tried to move his arms and found them strapped to the gurney.
By Matthew J. Fromm3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.