My Own Roadtrip

When I found you,

you looked like Seattle.

Gray clouds and rainy skies,

somber faces and dark eyes.

 

When I listened to you,

you sounded like Austin.

Lively spirits and diverse lifestyles,

exuberant stories and large smiles.

 

When I kissed you,

you tasted like New York City.

Bustling streets and bright lights,

euphoric movements and full of life.

 

When I touched you,

you felt like LA.

Big parties and sunny days,

warm skin and a benign gaze.

 

When I lied with you,

you slept like Destin.

Old souls and birds soaring,

still limbs and quiet snoring.

 

Why would I bother travelling the country

when everything I was looking for

I found in you?

 

  • m.f.

 

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