I never held beauty in my hands
So I pretend
And for awhile
She looks lovely again
Smooth skin, bright eyes, dark hair
You would have fallen in love with her
But of course that is all gone
She will never return
But my memory still burns
For what her young warm flesh yearns
We always carry that longing young version of ourselves deep inside. And she is just as alive now, despite the fact that we are aging. I like the way you express this...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very touching. Spiritual beauty will always be yours, dear Sonya. Love, Sandra