Artchelle Arcillas is an avid reader of poetry in all forms. She is a poetry contributor of Poets Unlimited, a poetry publication in Medium.
That night was a blur
yet my mind recalls what took place
I thought I'd never do.
There were you, in your favorite black tee
there's also me, holding a glass of water
I bet no one care to drink.
Bothered by the chatters,
I walk myself away, to wander
and stare at the ornaments they put
to beautify the once unadorned place
in my sight should've remain untouched.
With the hope of savoring the gift of solitude,
you, an unforeseen company
I'd be glad to go, stared at the one
I laid eyes on
with an impression I was alone,
no, I wasn't.
Still, you stayed.
That night was a blur,
an almost indistinguishable memory
but how your eyes spoke,
the way it glisten uttering each word,
how your lips stimulates me
whenever it curves
all of it,
etched to my memory.
I couldn't be more in love
in a sudden romance.