Lovepoem

by southernmusings

there are words
you speak
with no rhyme
and too much
reason

but in the
way you walk,
there is poetry
enough for
generations of
writers with
nameless faces,
all clamoring for
a seat at your table

there is art in
the way
sunlight tickles
it’s way through
your hairs, the
iridescent flashes
of moonbeams
from the rounding
edges of your eyes

your skin, smooth
and freckled,
and a most precious
of parchments.

let me write lovepoems
into the small
of your back.

and when you
exhale, I’ll read
you like
a book.

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