In November Rush

Did you miss me?

I got busy drawing hands

All those hands: leaders’, workers’, servants’

And yours the most!

The clouds bothered on some nights, their shapes unpredictable

as your laughter and grin –

I miss your eyes

And those times you couldn’t answer my favors, but just look at me

How innocent your gaze!

And your mouth pursed like a moon

And your face glowed like tequila

I adore you.

rose flores rosevoc2
also on poemhunter.com

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