Theater Showing Yields

Poetry

Opened window early Sunday morning in bed looking at each other,

And I want a few hundred years of this.

Making breakfast together and laughing with our clothes falling off,

Take a few hundred years of this too.

Way your eyes look when realizing all I need is you and this declaration isn’t hard for my lips to confess,

Never was. Never will be.

Few hundred years, of looking into your eyes while kissing,

A few hundred more.

Published by Edmond

Edmond is an INFJ layman writer, creating freestyle poetry as an outlet for his emotions for over thirty years. He can be reached at: Carolinawriter@protonmail.com

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