Monday, March 7, 2016
To enmesh in the fronds of your languid replies.
To carry this quiet, inexplicable despair within me like a fragile glass bird.
To become an anodyne to your wound.
To accidentally notice the glint of that faded wedding ring and suddenly feel a flooding, rush of immeasurable love.
To talk to your adored, sleeping shoulder – lips close to your dreaming skin - ending in a hushed moist-rose kiss.
To heal with a touch.
To forget the rest of the world for a moment.