Wings

A poem I had to write for school.

My eyes travel down him;

This divine being before me.

Taking my time,

Committing him to memory.

Afraid he might disappear

As suddenly as he came.

My fingers trace his skin;

His gorgeous features.

Slowly, gently.

I close my eyes, still seeing him.

His tousled brown hair;

Barely reaching

His radiant eyes.

My fingers trail to his broad shoulders;

Down to his strong arms.

The lines of his chest

Deep like canyons.

Fingers burning,

I drop my hand from his chest.

This beautiful being so angelic

All he needs

Is wings.

Reviews

[Crowley]

Sounds like you would have a lot to give to someone like this. The poem is undeniably frank and honest, that is what I love about you..you don't sugar coat your feelings. Are you able to express those feelings outside of poetry? I know sometimes it is much less awkward through poetry. Nice work here.