Poems for Random Boys Pt 1

Jun 10, 2021

He is like a sheepskin rug in a cozy room. Flannel and fire and quiet conversations in warm dim lighting.

He is the scent of pine and fresh grass after a summer rain. The sound of worn pages being leafed through in your favorite novel. The sight of a childhood friend after a long absence. And I can only imagine he tastes of cool birch sap, of wild blackberries in August, of oak smoked salmon.

And when I am with him, I'm somewhere my soul has known.

Madison Taskett

I'm a tech growth marketer and indie maker in Austin, TX 🌮. This blog is a daily look into my mind. It's raw, honest, and reflective, and I try to post daily.