A Walk Down Memory Lane

Natasha Sharma posted under PenMuse-24 Poetry on 2020-11-19



Our soft lips graze each other Tender yet unsureĀ  Our noses, they stick in between Always, a meddler. Our hands, they caress hesitantly In fumbling pursuits Yearning to tread down paths But scared to proceed. Our lips part ways And eyes, they open Ragged breaths, a witness To the magic we have experienced. The first kiss we shared Will memory always treasure To cherish and fawn over When dark days, hover.

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