The Learning

To my dearest sailor man who I long for,

it wasn’t until I saw his face again, had I known what love looked like

and I’ve been since learning the colour his mysteriously light eyes look like.

love had a voice too, almost like a music and his was the only one I wanted to listen

he perhaps had the most beautiful mind, and I was in the awe of the way it worked.

we held hands, love & I and it felt nothing short of a magic at first,

i’ve since been learning the way his fingers would make circles in my palm.

love is now aware of the times i’d need a shoulder to rest my head on,

and I’ve been learning the way he would casually lean a perfect angle to make it a home for my head.

a spark that pulls us closer everyday, like a magnet we craved each other

and I’ve been learning how his arms would wrap around me, and hand so gentle would move against my arm.

remembrance of the time his lips touched the back of my hand and made my world come to a standstill is still my most favourite feelings to learn of love.

love is no good at goodbyes, none of us are and I hope we never learn that.

I hope we instead hug each other awkwardly, be sad and sulk about the fact that we’re gonna miss each other like shit and long for the loving everyday because we damn right will. Screw this poetry I fucking miss you.


7 thoughts on “The Learning

  1. don’t name love after a mere passer-by, for oh you shall stumble upon so many.
    write the romance you’ve in you while imagining someone beside you, only to live it tomorrow with the one, with whom you’d never know what a goodbye feels like. i liked this. you write lovely. take care!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. love is but a presence. i do not ask to love what you can’t see or the one you don’t know. i ask you to love, in a way you would love; even when there was no one around, to share that love and romance, that lies within you.

        Liked by 1 person

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