starry nights and dizzy strolls,
they remind me of a boy.
i remember the very highlights
of him, the minor details.
his eyes, those onyx pools
as dark as the eerie paths,
hold unfathomable mysteries
and those cerise lips that are
begging to be tasted.
tiny freckles adorn his olive skin-flawless and prepossessing.
a smile rarely makes itself
known on those lips, as if
they're a foreign territory for it.
but today something was different.
he was standing there, hands
folded across his chest,
a bored face observing the
hustle and bustle of a regular life.
and then, our eyes locked.
his brow creased, orbs became
even darker: pitch black.
lower lip, being abused in between his teeth.
i thought i had lost myself in the
obscure neighbourhood of his eyes
but then, there it was.
a strange smile. it was barely there
but my mind had captured a perfect picture.
he smiled. at me. and i was spellbound.
i realized, i was slowly becoming a
prisoner to
the jaded boy, with a heart of fire
that had deep mysteries buried
within.
only, i wasn't afraid of the flames.
- you are my most beautiful memory, babe.
• • • • • •
YOU ARE READING
querencia.
PoetryPOE1 | ❝these verses, how they've become a part of me. scribbled in reverse keeping me in some sort of reverie.❞ ...... querencia - (n.) a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic...
