The Sighting
Rippling pastel, clean clear world ender
Fantasy blue, I can’t look away
That auburn tress, that neck
Moving close hope escapes
My closing throat tries to deny
I see you wore your glasses
I wore mine too
It doesn't matter (a lie) It’s only a cover
The coolest that ever burned
Slowly doubtingly moving ahead
Life will never be the same again
Copyright © Belden Raiser | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment