You're the pillow that my head rests on after a long day,
I sink
And sink
Into your delightful words,
Until I can no longer remember the remnants of my breaking cloud.
On the desk I write stories,
I wish to also write our fate,
And seal it with
The flame of a thousand suns.
Let it burn and burn
And etch into my skin,
Like a red flush warming me up.
In every mosaic of each tile in my room,
I see your face usher me,
Into the safest haven one can never even dream of.
It is soft, it lets me crawl,
It breaks all my seemingly unending falls.
All the light I couldn't see in the world,
You showed me as you stood and shook your hands with me.
And even if all the countries in the world were ruled over by me,
There is only one place I would like to walk back into
To sort out the rest of my crumbs of life.
It is you, my magnetic manor,
It is you, my home.
YOU ARE READING
And the Petals Fall
Poetry❃ From one of the flowers in my infinite garden, I present to you a caricature of its petals. ❃
