We were a stutter,
a scratched CD,
false start after false start
screaming to become.
We were young intentions,
unresolved want,
curiosity drenched in hesitation.
We were also beautiful moments.
Chance encounters turned into soft afternoons
under canopied trees
on old wooden benches,
through plucked guitar strings.
Your head resting in my lap,
my heart staining your fingers.

-Laura Andrea


One thought on “

  1. Janice Wald says:

    Hi Laura,
    I love your poem. The part about the scratched CD hooked me. It’s obvious you loved and lost. However, the amazing images made me feel happy reading this.
    Maybe you can check out my blog. I offer blogging tips to bloggers. I also host 6 blog parties each month where you could meet new readers.


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