Sort Of Blue Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Sort Of Blue



Sort of blue

Natasha
You may know or may not.
I still have your taste;
Tongue in mouth.

What made you come to me?
Sit on lap, start kiss?

Your dyed hair into red
Reddened face
And those eyes
Not brown, not green
Sort of blue
And softness with the care

You may know and may not
Are here; have remained.

Saturday, April 18, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: romance
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