A for Atlantic,
B for Baristas.
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He tried staying afloat,
in the Atlantic of her eyes,
still felt like he was drowning
albeit merrily, gaining no respite.
He would speak to her, that one day,
when he might gain his might,
but till then, he's just a Barista –
of whom she never took sight.
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YOU ARE READING
Faking Intellect
Poetry(not a story) _________________ A collection of pretentious words tied by a rhyming scheme, or just pretentious words conveying pretentious thoughts by someone who tries to believe she understands love, anger, taboos. But she doesn't. _________ Sh...
