Summer Night

Paola Ritucci
Jun 5 · 1 min read
Photo by Andressa Voltolini on Unsplash

The road is dusty
The wheat gives way to sunflowers.
I breathe you into the bones.

You have this turquoise stone,
I mirror in it.

Fireflies,
the sound of cicadas,
your voice,
they tell me the way.

We kiss,
away from the eyes.

We are full of fragility,
with monsters to feed.

Scribe

Stories that matter. Emotion first and foremost.

Paola Ritucci

Written by

I like to write about feelings and everyday life. I love cooking, and above all eating! I have dark hazel eyes and I drink coffee.

Scribe

Scribe

Stories that matter. Emotion first and foremost.