I tried to hold on...
But his shadow blocked my way
I'm Friendless and Alone…
About the Creator
HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)
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More stories from HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward) and writers in Poets and other communities.
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 TheSpinstress7 days ago in Poets
Confessions of an Empath
The birds are chirping, and the sun is shining in a cloudless July sky. The vibrancy promises a beautiful day, but the cooing of the Mourning Dove perched on the powerlines seems to be more fitting than the lively songs of the robin flitting through the trees. The melancholic calls of the dove cloak the world in a sadness that hangs like tattered drapes.
By Alyssa Nicole5 days ago in Confessions
Comments (4)
Surreal haiku. I feel you man! 🥰
Great poem!
Sad, but beautiful.
Brilliant & beautiful!!!