Faith Carmichael Poet Prose

Young

I dance alone in my bedroom to Johnny Lang 
Each creak of the floorboard, wishing it was your humming 
To each sweet melody
As you brush your cheek against my temple 
It’s nice to have these lonely nights 
Sometimes, 
Because 
When I do see you, I hold you 
That ever more tighter 
When you’re sat on the porch 
Playing your guitar 
I’ll come up behind you,
Dressed in lace 
And your mothers pearls 
She gave me on my 23rd birthday 
I let my brunette hair drape down your chest 
Kissing the nape of your neck 
As you sing of different places 
Smiling to the thought 
Even if I was to go blind 
You would still taste the same

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