Thursday, 4 April 2013

When I Met You

Day 4, and I'm knackered... it could be something to do with (a fresh new bout of) anaemia. Still, I'm well excited for trying out new ideas, although it's getting hard.

This poem is dedicated to three people- a beautiful (anonymous) strawberry-blond, a gorgeous pianist with the most awesome glasses who I will probably never speak to, and a young Portuguese man who doesn't speak English.

When I Met You

When I met you,
I was a girl on the floor,
While my hair spilled like ivy
I begged you for more.

          I sought your protection
      Your beautiful charm
          I craved your soft talking
      The gold in your crown

When I met you
You were a God at a piano
I could've lived in a world
Of your features, your silence

          My conscious swelled up
      I messed up all my notes
          (I only got one song wrong
      But it felt like the world).

When I met you.

When I met you
You were a boy on the bus
You snoozed on my shoulder
And I knew it was love.

          Your face, my touch traced it 
      And I smoothed down your hat
          But the miles between us
      Won't listen to that.

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