I Miss Poetry


I miss our unspoken conversations. Those long gazes into your eyes.
The way my body tenses when you speak. I miss the mystery in you, it kept me on my toes.
Ask me a question then wait for the answer. Tell me what you want from me and watch me excitedly oblige.
What's your favorite color? I'm assuming what ever color I'd be naked.
Naked, stripped of all judgement's, worries and environmental boredom.
I miss our unspoken conversations.
I miss Poetry.

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This Poems Story

Once a month I like to attend Open mic night at Busboys and poets. I feel like it is the one night all to myself, where I can be anyone I'd like and I can be anywhere I'd like "in my mind". That's how listening to a new poem or song make me feel. The "Imagination" is key to the Soul.