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I want it to be touching, scant elegance. delicate as a breath. but not pretentious imao. Here are two versions of the poem.
(1)
wind between my ears
I hope there is no
end to this,
limbo
there was a time
when time slowed down
between the space
of our mouths,
our fingertips
touch
through the golden light, my
love on a summer afternoon.
I am in love.
(2)
wind rushing between my ears.
I hope there is no end
to this limbo.
there was a time when time slowed down
between the space
of my mouth and yours,
my love on a summer afternoon,
our fingertips reaching to touch through the golden light.
I am in love.
