Unbidden

Stephen M. Tomic
Aug 31, 2018 · 1 min read

It’s not a beautiful day.
The skies are smeared grey
And the sun remains hidden.
Alone, I sit, when thoughts
Of you rush into me, unbidden.

Though the flowers are wilting
And the seasons forever tilting,
The memory of you shines like the summer,
Ensnaring my soul in delicate vines.

The winds blow ever colder. Soon,
I will walk home by myself to seek shelter.
At the doorstep, I recall the shape
Of your cheekbones. My fingers long
To slowly trace your ethereal curves.
Dare I be bolder?

Moods shift, tumultuous as the sea,
Tides swell to swallow me whole.
Willingly, I’ll submerge myself and descend
To the deepest of depths, seeking to reunite
You with me, and the heart you stole.


The Junction

The Junction is a digital crossroads devoted to stories, culture, and ideas. Our interests are legion.

Thanks to Elizabeth Helmich

Stephen M. Tomic

Written by

writer* fiction* editor* smtomic@gmail.com

The Junction

The Junction is a digital crossroads devoted to stories, culture, and ideas. Our interests are legion.

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