Maybe I forgot
about him maybe
I forgot
about his eyes
burning how I felt
them on the naked
nape of my neck
maybe
I forgot how
he touched
my bare shoulder
as he passed
soft and fleeting
as a dream the kind
that vanishes
when morning comes
and you
open your eyes
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: JanserMaciel (CC BY-SA 4.0)
via Wikimedia Commons
