i am touch
where intention
spilled to the light
flailing as vows
to be heard
a long night beginning
with no easy answers –
let me sleep
with my heart
on your sword
i am graces
neglected –
secrets let be
lifetimes made over
again
let me stay
for a moment
before I am fade
to nothing
but words
on your skin
. . .
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
The heart’s softness cannot pierce the sword …
in the falling, are we not always in search of a softer place to land