and he doesn’t mind
when rain falls and
soaks his denim shirt,
its faded hues darkening,
pressed close against
his chest -
like breath
that I inhale.
and when he cries
I taste the salt
of a thousand
rainy days,
when walking
over soft wet sand
he seeks to
hold my hand.
He says 'no matter'
and still will smile
when cold hands
touch his heart,
undoing all the
buttons from his
faded old blue shirt
©EMG06
Thanks Tai haven't been writing much of late - I think the muse took a holiday, but getting back to it gently - looking forwards to reading your work again. Emma x
Welcome with open arms to Poemhunter Emma, I have missed your gentle touching poetry of which this is a shining example. 10 and grinning at you, Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
his chest - like breath that I inhale. ************************ I wear your breath on me whole day I wonder if they notice I smell any different __ Orange Geometry at PH