Their

A poem of my ex.

Sometimes red, sometimes black, sometimes blue

The art stays the same, so does the shape

The soft cloth rubs against their soft

Fading away like the time I spend watching them

Just as my heart and soul as I speak to them

Now they lie nude

Waiting for the arrival of another

Sometimes excited, sometimes vexed, sometimes shy

Always beautiful.

Author's Note

It was about their lips. All Criticism Welcome.

Reviews

[Patrick Roach]

Your writing is very nice nd good

[reibirb]

I really like the way you portrayed the emotions here, and the fact that the ex was kept to a neutral gender.

[Nocturnal_One]

Thank you again, it was about their lips.