Poetry

Hereditary

“It was when he walked up to me.
That was when I knew.
He was the one for me.”

Maybe it was chance. Or maybe it was hereditary. But there was something about the way he moved that caught my eye. How could such a creature be so breathtaking? No matter how much I fought it, my eyes kept driving towards him. It was as if he was a magnet. But that wasn’t what surprised me the most about that night. It was when he walked right up to me and took my breath away. That was when I knew. He was the one for me.

© Sarah Doughty

I fell. Just like that.

This was written for day fourteen
of November Notes.
Sensitive Kind
By John Mayall

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13 thoughts on “Hereditary”

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