Poetry · Writing

Choice Words

She came back to my dreams last night.

Tight roping around my finger tips

swirling drapes flashed on her tender lips.
I didn’t think you would come back.

We crashed our boat flying like a kite,

cursed, spoke your honest plight.
We read of the same scripts.

I wished for your hands and lack

of spite and I’ll meet you after I pack.

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