Take my hand and don’t let go,
Bring your heart closer to mine,
Mend my broken pieces now
So that I can love you back.
Take a needle with red tread,
Bring it near the scattered pieces,
Sew together what’s been pulled apart
So that I can be untouched again.
The ridges of my fresh sewn flesh don’t scare you.
Take a step towards my side,
Bring a fresh flower bouquet,
Tell me how we can be happy now
So that our life can start.
Don’t mind, please, the still blue me,
For I can overcome this,
But smile affectionate towards me
And I’ll turn into sunny glee.
About the Creator
eternal_sun
Aspiring writer 🌸
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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
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