The Memories of My Present


Run through her hair
on a lazy sunday,
taste her lips
warm as the sunshine.

Like a whirlpool,
like its eye,
drown me beautifully,
drown me silently.

Run through her hair
on a windy wednesday,
hold her close,
to make her feel loved.

Like a night’s sigh,
like its prayer,
wake me beautifully,
wake me silently.

Running around in circles,
forever chasing her beauty,
hold her sometime
on a midnight clear.

Like my poem,
like its innocence,
love me eternally,
love me naively.

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