by Joseph Cambonga
Breaths of fresh air under a clear blue sky
Displayed a fresh start; some brand new chapter.
Strangers flew right by, but not She and I
As eye to eye, we engaged in laughter.
She, Aphrodite, defined real beauty,
Several breathes swindled from her sole smile.
She, with starry-sapphire eyes, inspired me,
So even if our talks last for awhile.
Conversations turned into confessions:
Secrets revealed, we share the same dark past.
But change came, silence sprung in our sessions:
As She, placed some stranger first; my self, last.
So I sit, nostalgic to what is dead.
Hold me dear, as I cut our common thread.
Thumbnail image by Evelyn Stetzer.