fingertips
Learn more about other poetry terms
she was like watercolor.
no.
She was watercolor.
her bright red smile would slip through my fingers just as it came,
Achy bones,
Tears I cry.
I cried and cried I'm gonna die.
Die this way,
There is no cure for my pain,
Four new doctors,
They're all the same.
The X-rays are normal.
EMG too.
Your pink, rosey lips
delicately fell onto the bones of my hips.
Your beaming, bright smile
can send my heartbeat and I traveling over a mile.
Your dainty, lingering fingertips,
could repair sinking ships.