Dripping down my chin my heart is open you flow right in.
Pulling each other closer so early in the morning but not early enough lover for where have you been all my life? I feel as if I’ve been waiting for you each morning. Always, for eons. Each and every morning. Eons. Throughout time.
We cradle a broken vision a broken ideal, a broken heart when it’s done. Then nothing but silence.
I am my own lover, my own best friend. On my own forever.
You shudder when he comes near sometimes though. Still afraid to trust, still afraid to love. Too many bad memories linger on your harmed skin too many body parts and fingers have been where they should not have been.
I might as well do that knowing I am still free to be me.
Not even you.
I think your tiny heart can grow. It will love again. It’s just not going to be me. I’m grateful. I love and you will love one day because it can.
When I close my eyes all I see is you. When I take deep breaths all I recollect from the smell is you.
Her glories and sad stories, her roaming heather, her love for nature, her sweet naivete and surrender, to all that was pure.