I was collecting stones with her, in the early night. There were plenty on the porch. Tiny, but cute. I spoke to them all, picking through. I was next to her parent's car, that was the start of a precious connection.
A stone so perfectly created, it was a creation of striking purity.
I never wished then, that the moon could shine on it. I want not of yearning. If I could get it back, I would charge it in the moon and keep it like it's talismanic. By the stars I would swear that it was created especially.
Now I remember, I took it everywhere. I cared like that stone was a precious teddy bear. I kept it in my palms, kept it protected. A cushion for a beauty that was created by the universe. There was this part where I could place a thumb, it perfectly fit into the space. The crevices weren't empty but were filling with soft skin, keeping it safe. Not a single person saw its beauty but her.
Years went on, it wandered away. Now I wish that it wasn't gone, as I long to place it in my palms again.
Oh sweet, little stone. Can't you come back please? I'll take you back and care like you did when anxiety kept you close to me. Precious, little stone. You were like the world.
I wish to place you on the altar, you're that special. Increasingly so, that I curse that you're not near. I couldn't protect you enough, you slipped away. I would speak to you, morning and night, like I do to deities. I yearn to see your beautiful white surface again, in moonlight. Oh sweet, precious, little stone. I know you can see that you were like the world, can't you come back- please?
© Sincerely, ♡ - March 2023
YOU ARE READING
My Guts Create A Tapestry - Poetry
PoetryThis poetry is strictly copyright, it's all written by me. These poems tend to be written sweetly so you could be reading the most gorey poem and it'd be like it's romantacised. I don't try to romantacise them, it's the way I write. You'll possibly...