I knew his soul had something of
midnight talks through cigarette smoke
Sunday car rides returning back home
that special song lovers dance too close
unfinished movies with the one we love
every unsaid thing we were once afraid of
the planes that were missed because of
goodbye kisses at the airport
YOU ARE READING
A Hundred Roses
PoetryAnd suddenly, I couldn't tell anymore if it was me the one reading her words or her words were the ones that kept reading my soul