автор: rafikah

You sat so nicely
in an armchair,
at the very center
of my heart.

It feels like
you have always
been there -
reading papers,
glasses on
your chocolate gaze,
smoking
cross-legged,
dim light
casting shadows
on your subtle
evening face,
lazy dust specks
flirting gracefully
with you
in courteous game.

My rocky silence,
interrupted,
now wishes
to be called
your name.