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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,

deserted, but

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.

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