top of page


By Ben Sanchez

When your eyes meet hers,

In a breath,

Nostalgia courses through your vein,

Craving for a familiarity that is forever lost,

Longing for the warmth,

Far beyond your reach.

For times ruthless march has severed away the ties you once had with her,

And in the tempest of connection,

Where the words you uttered pierced the essence of

affection like a sharp dagger,

Your tome of romance now wears a crimson cloak.


bottom of page