A Dust Mite Speaks
With feeble tries to move from this bed
Legs spread, arms reaching out
To a space that was moist, yet ambiguous
The golden brown sun mocks her
As it shines through her dirty windowpane
A tear falls upon the pale blue sheets
Fingers stroking it, last night was a blur
But the feelings were strong, concrete
Still she had so much love to offer
So much words to blanket him with
What she wouldn't do, to hear the sound
Of humble guitars, gentle violin strains
As she lost her heart to his gentle neck
As she lost her soul to his hypnotic pulse
poem by Janine Alyssa Navarro
Added by Poetry Lover
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