Rings of Smoke

Where shall the word be found, where will the word | Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence

kleptomania

Posted on | November 11, 2009 | Comments Off

When you left,
I stole certain things,
From you-
A rueful smile,
A beam of sunlight, peeking through your hair,
A teardrop touching the angle of your jaw,
A touch of lip upon lip,
The warmth of your hand,
And a look in your eyes.

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Category: english poetry

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