While my eyes
Are trekking, through
The ‘warm’ snow of emotions,
Those fell out for me,
From the holes of your heart,
And my fingers are tracing,
The embroidery of your heart’s
Unspoken language,
That lies between the white spaces,
..After the periods,
And in blur tear spots;
I’m thinking about,
The best kind of love letter,
I ever read from you.

It was your yawning face,
After the nightlong drooling,
In my hands.

One Comment Add yours

  1. iamcayenne says:

    😀😀😀😀😂……didn’t see that one coming! Her yawning face😃
    Awwww…….so beautiful*

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