her deepest colors

forty six

late at night

i get a call.

it's her.

'the philodendron is

growing fast.'

i smile. 'good.'

and then i smile because

i want to weave stars into

her hair so

she can lie beside me and

it won't be so dark.

for once,

she will be brighter than

any constellation.

so blinding that i

can look right to

the sun and

not burn my eyes.

'can you come over, please'

i ask.

'i'm already outside your window,

love', she replies.

***

If you like short love stories, you could check out my other story a bite of love :)

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