Sunday, May 19, 2019

The kind that vanishes (Day 851)

Maybe I forgot 

about him   maybe 

I forgot 

about his eyes

burning   how I felt

them on the naked

nape of my neck


I forgot   how 

he touched 

my bare shoulder 

as he passed   

soft and fleeting

as a dream   the kind

that vanishes

when morning comes

and you

open your eyes

(c) 2019, by Hannah Six

Image: JanserMaciel (CC BY-SA 4.0)

via Wikimedia Commons

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