Tuesday, 9 December 2014


"Not all writers are sad. All sad people write." -Lang Leav

I looked at you
And you began talking.

You noticed my hand
And grabbed my ring.

That's when I felt a spark
A sudden jolt from your touch.

Then you moved slowly,
Entwining our hands as one.

We sit side by side
Too close, too tight.

You smelled my hair
And your perfume still lingers.

We reached our place,
I had to go.

I wish to hold you longer,
And feel a hug that's tighter.

Then we waited for another
And it didn't take any longer.

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