Poem #337

The touch was something like silk.
The taste was that of sugar,
but even more addictive.
You felt like home, like peace.

I spent days writing then rushing
my fingers through paper
hoping to catch a glimpse of your face
somewhere between my words.

I think I was trying to recreate you,
but I don’t know how to recreate a feeling.
It was like a summer morning with a pinch of salt
in the air and hot sand between my toes.

I got lost between the palm trees,
wandered around the buildings,
spent my days climbing the mountains.
Are you looking for me as well?

5 thoughts on “Poem #337

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