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You found me with the whispers of first love
And the dark eyes of a starry night
With the soft heartbeat of wild horses
In a cool glass of Sunday morning
You’d walk away with empty lungs
But I’d be there and I’ll miss you
With the sour taste of your kiss on my tongue
I have your string on my fingertip
It will always tug you back to this
Never will I worry about this wandering
That you can’t find your way back
Through the twists of revolving fate
We find ourselves back in repeating rapture
And the forgiving arms of comfort
With delicate reminders of the first time
©2009 ~Syilnex
:iconsyilnex:

Author's Comments

All my poems end up being sappy and for my boyfriend. Humph.

Comments


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:iconnotrenee:
I like the string. I would tell you in more detail, but I'm not feeling it at the moment. <3

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Nom nom nom nomz.

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May 22
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