belief and belonging braves my eyes to close and dream
our fleeting hours become a monument solid and traceable
and i conceive of my becoming in our womb like an interior
I long to sleep and lay and breathe shallow in our spirit pool
of golden orchid and the midas that cavorts within your touch
bringing speech to my skin as words fall blissfully I weep
for the beauty of it all, for the beauty of our sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment