i'd like to draw
a picture of him,
but i don't think i could capture such
faultlessness
with a crumpled piece of paper,
cheap colouring pencils
and a shaking
hand.
YOU ARE READING
blinded
Poetryshe was blinded by his perfection. he was too blind to realise. ☁ [copyright simile-, two thousand and fourteen] #140 in Poetry | #904 in Romance
