This is not a love poem,
because a love poem means
that its real.
Your skin brushes up against mine
and sparks.
The fourth of July fireworks
lights up the dark blue sky
that is my skin
after life has happened.
I love the way your voice
rolls off your tongue like waves
on a cloudy day.
and i love the salty taste
I get in my mouth
after they get too close.
Your were the sun
and I was the rain.
I was obviously more
disliked
than you.
'*'
YOU ARE READING
Why You
PoetryJust poems. Some poems that I have written and others from the internet. If you would like to send me poems, I will dedicate that page to you. Or if you want to stay anonymous that's fine, too. Poems that I have wrote will have a '*' at the end. Pl...
