I forgot how long the days become
without the touch of your fingertips
atop my cheeks, down my thigh
across my back, lining my spine
the seconds melt into hours
my sheets open up like the sea
I wait and wade
and wade and wait
for you to drift back
so we can
dance
before
the
music
begins
again
without the touch of your fingertips
atop my cheeks, down my thigh
across my back, lining my spine
the seconds melt into hours
my sheets open up like the sea
I wait and wade
and wade and wait
for you to drift back
so we can
dance
before
the
music
begins
again
Found this quote the other day:
ReplyDelete“I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still.”
Sylvia Plath
Thought you would like it.
Whatever voice is inside of you, it is wonderful and I love what is has to say.