To my first love
These flames
Strum with gold
Keeps burning
On shades of
palm-three
We met, weaving
Our heart together
Like storms
In summer
Wit played foul
As we stare vaguely
Without words
Our nude heart
Bows to silence
While we smile
Shamefully
Tell-teen years gone-
We keep longing
To spit the boiling
Flames In our heart
But we fail to see
The best expression
Of teen love lies
In a silence stare
