You do not need to write me poetry. There are sonnets in the subtleties of your smile, an aubade in every glance thrown over your shoulder. The flash of your eyes, the hint of warmth in your gaze: a poem in progress.

9 thoughts on “Wordless

  1. Meg says:

    I’ve been over in nonfic/nonfat so long that I haven’t read one of your lovely pieces in ages. I miss it and feel rejuvenated reading this. You make it look so easy.


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