I think of you still,
you know.
I remember tracing
the constellations of freckles
on your face with my hand.
Your eyes always held me
in a way I still have yet understand;
vulnerable completely
and yet,
incredibly safe.
You hated the fact that they were brown,
I told you they were desert sage
after a summer shower
and when you smiled,
I truly believed.

I think of you still,
you know.


One thought on “Venus

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