My Inner Monologue

Serica the Poet

The Pizza Boy

Eyes, big and brown

Twinkle in the sunlight.

She can’t help but notice.

Curly black hair bounces.

A smile that is glorious.

Their fingers clasped,

Sharing more than skin brushing skin.

Two souls joined between hands.

As they walk, in harmony, their arms swing.

He stops, pulls her close.

Plays tips of fingers across her lips.

Draws her in for a soft kiss.

Young and in love,

She and the pizza delivery boy.

At least, that how it could have been.