Posted in Poems, Uncategorized

Moon Scars

Last fall as the night’s chill snuck up on us,

sitting behind the tall oak tree

on Lilac Lane,

I kissed you with my small town lips,

tasted you with my country tongue

and learned a lot about pain — love.

Silk skin in the moonlight

razor sharp kisses.

Crescent shaped scars on my chest

where you showed me how to fly.

And I

remember falling asleep

in a pile of red and orange

the crinkle of leaves

and the shape of the moon on my soft skin.

 

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts in the comments below.

-Wishing you the brightest of days,Eva

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow,my ink would cease to flow.”

via Moon

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Author:

I am a young and enthusiastic writer, fresh out of highschool and into college at IUSB. I babysit and work and live life to it's fullest. I write. I read. I do yoga. And plan to become. Yoga intructers as well. I grew up on a farm and can't,t wait to move back to the country in my tiny house I have already planned out. Sometimes I'm a little melodramatic but rarely. I'm a spiritual healer, a hopeless romantic, a book worm, and very nostalgic. Thanks for stopping by.

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