Untitled #21
it’s a sunday and my clothes are black,
that was always your favorite
and you touch me so softly it hurts.
the sun on my skin reminds me of you
i think of you in the most simple ways
tracing shapes on your palms
i cook dinner and wish it were for two.
© lindsey
that was always your favorite
and you touch me so softly it hurts.
the sun on my skin reminds me of you
i think of you in the most simple ways
tracing shapes on your palms
i cook dinner and wish it were for two.
© lindsey