"Did you like her in the morning?"
Not only did I like her between cups of coffee that turned cold, I liked her in the pause before the first sip,
in the soft chaos of unspoken words,
in the sunlight that tangled itself in her hair and the moonlight that lingered on her skin.
I liked her not just in the mornings,
but in the moments when she thought no one was watching; when her guard fell and her honesty gleamed like a secret on the dancefloor.
I liked her in the in-betweens, the nearlys, and the what ifs—in the parts of the day we often forget to notice.
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Before I Let You Go | Poetry
PoetryA collection of unforgettable memories turned into words. To my new readers, please check out my first poetry book, Words Left Unsaid. Thank you!
