Sunset Secret

But this kind of feeling can't be named.

My sun sets inside,

tangerine clouds smile

with white teeth.

The sun, pink 

tongue at its peak.

Orange galaxy

reflected on the creek.

Don’t ask me to

take down a piece.

The word love 

is not a good enough 


Someone asks

if I love them,

the person waiting

for me by the waves.

But this kind

of feeling

can’t be named.

Did you enjoy this story? Subscribe to our weekly newsletter to find out when new stories are published.

Learn how to join our Writers Cohort here.

Follow us:

Join Us

My Umbrella Writers Cohort

Related Posts


grudges are too hard to hold with these small hands 


She used to drink me dry, now there’s only a drip left.