Touch - Poem by Alyssa Ponds
Can we meet again
under trees that whisper with the wind?
And pretend like we didn't touch
Like we aren't dancing
Waiting for your skin
is like waiting for the sun after the winter
to lay upon my cheeks as
waves sink into the sand.
A songbird humming for the first time,
our lips saying goodbye for the last.
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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