Some plant lips on Mother Earth in a display of gratitude.Meanwhile, she is kissing the soles of your feet, recognizing the one to be worshiped is you.
Allow the fear to keep you sensible but not to keep you still. If you’re afraid of the dark then open your eyes, see that you are home.
Towards these weeks of rain I give effusive praise. Let me always be reminded that there is time for change.
How lucky I am to lose sleep over such a work of art.
In your hands I am no longer a pile of bones left behind to a world that moved on.
Sometimes my helpless blood runs numb and, if only for a second, I forget how frail bones can be.
Dissociated, I follow this body in its reckless haste.
Leave the hush to those who love like apes because together, you and I make vulgar sounds like a fervent sojourn in paradise.
Doubt quit stopping by when I started staying out late, dancing in a flood of self assurance discovered when holding your hand.
I am foolish in the way distance makes me feel partial.
Even lungs that are gasping are lungs that are trying.
3 A.M. isn’t a time for sleep when the silhouette of you is breathing next to me.
Nostalgia dies in the pit of my throat from lack of exercise and I buried the word six feet under the pronunciation of hopeful tomorrows.
Forsake it in the morning. Do not ring it the next day.Make no commitment to comfort.
Forgive me for not loving how you deserve.With weak knees that in their grand gesture can only collapse instead of bow.