PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I like girls with upturned noses
and sunken cheeks.

Her eyes were too large
but she drank me
and I loved the saucers of wine she held.
How could you claim to know me
when I’m still becoming
and my notebooks are tucked away?

We turned our heels and headed west
because east held no place for us.
There was no reason,
and even less of a rhyme, love,
as she subjected me to her elements
and I spliced them into my memory.