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"Speckles" MAG
Ever since memory was born in me
I have known this name
Spoken in the soft, wispy voice
Of my father
Much like
The whispering that occurs
Between trees
That languidly dance in the untamed wind
In the aftermath of a storm
I can still hear his voice
Tumbling gently through my thoughts
"Speckles"
With my face, adorned with chestnut freckles
Resting in the hands of my lover
Who grins wickedly and speaks,
"Freckles"
A shiver of yearning tears through my body
I can only counter him with a wry smile
Reminiscing
With an inevitable pain
That lies in my throat
Like cold
Broken glass
I miss him
© Anonymous
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