with a promise: i'd never look at this crystalline water again.
i've travelled most of this world;
faced countless hurricanes and whirlpools
myriad bruises and scars i have
though healed and conceded,
i remember clearly how each bruise and scar woven on my porcelain skin
i've met few voyagers along my journey; i've met one,
a week feels like centuries
a soul i felt i knew
we shared cold nights and luminous days
until dawn,
a pirate stole my treasure
i can't trace nor find wherever he is,
i grew tired and got numb,
i wonder, does he still remember me clearly?
YOU ARE READING
ninth avenue - poetry
Poetry__ heavenly bodies only know where you are now. maybe i was not holding on too tight as you slipped away. wasn't i still yours? __