Poem

So he touched me right

and he touched me well

Let me tremble in

his arms for a spell

And now I owe him

a poem I think

Shouldn’t my apologies

be on the brink

of my lips which

love him so tenderly

for I’m leaving soon

though i watch delightfully

how he sleeps

like an innocent baby

My lungs ache this time

Its not laughter anymore maybe

Now I crave him so

and often I think of him

But he’ll be gone soon

and I’ll be gone on a whim.
….

– Ananya Maheshwari