• poems,  poetry

    Booth at the Restaurant

    warm amber dances against her face into her eyes the booth is soft and quiet they hold hands across the table stolen glances from so close breath lost whispers forced from throats that beg to scream their love the gentle glow from frayed lamp and dusty shade flush against the walls his eyes catch hers that perfect slow motion stare that kills you their hands shiver spines freeze and they remember that moment forever.