About that guy, boss
Popped was, "I am that guy, boss"
Dead meeting, now live.
About the Creator
Parvathi J
Bombarded with thoughts, I chose to put them on paper, and here I am learning to write.
Evolving over time, through experiences, and here I am trying to act mature ;)
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress6 days ago in Poets
Comments (2)
Hahahahaahahahahaha! That was hilarious!
RIP meeting