Creatives

The Moment After

I turn to you,

Ensconced in the bedding

I see swirls of hair

Glistening on your bare chest.

Your eyes shut,

Mind somewhere else.

The moment after, doubts always arise

I tell myself I’m being stupid

Thinking myself into ruins

Where do you go after I sleep?

Should I smile or should I weep?

As I smell a scent on your neck,

And it isn’t mine.

You Might Also Like

  • webmarka
    June 23, 2016 at 3:24 am

    This article has multiple issues. Please help improve it or discuss these issues on the talk page .