The weight
Of her hand
Resting on my wrist.
The chill
Of the ink
Gliding against my skin.
Her curl
Misplaced from the rest,
Blown by the wind.
Her hair
Wasn’t up today
Like it had been.
The strokes
Of the pen
Gave me goosebumps.
The focus
Of her gaze
Makes my heart hum.
I’m left
With a flower
On my hand
And I’m left
With her name
On my heart.
