The Flowers Bloom Here

Rays Of You

I remember the sky;
How clear it was on the first night to ourselves.
Just us, and me, holding your pocket-sized body in the velvety light of a dewy morning, listening to your set meter of breath.
It was a tranquil scene; even the dust stood stock still as the silence drifted around the space, the way an echo bounces off walls.
But, I awoke from my suffocating slumber.
Your figure, intertwined with my soul and the feather pillows, was still locked in a land I could never reach.
Your visage is half covered by a shadow, whilst the other portion embraces the pale sunlight wafting in through the thick white slats of the windows blinds.
Lilac lips agape just enough to hear your idiosyncratic locutions escaping in little whispers.
Little glimpses into your pulchritudinous, peculiar mind.
Milk chocolate brown locks wrapped around sun-kissed shoulders in an elegant distortion.
As I look down upon you, locked in this breathless state, I cannot tear myself away to think properly.
I don't know what the feeling was to this day.
All I can imagine it as, is a feeling of security.
I didn't feel as if I was forcing someone to stay in my life.
Looking over at the analog clock stacked on a pile of books as tall as a mountain, 5:38 a.m.
Getting up, I swing my legs off the bed, my toes melting into the cherry red floor.
Without hesitation, you throw yourself over, replacing an empty spot with warmth and serenity.
I glide across the glistening cold, as to not wake the serine creature your personality adorns.
My form now resting on the windowsill, gazing out to the sky and witnessing the colors in a vast array or oranges, pinks, and grays colliding with the rising sun.
I could almost imagine being on a roof painting them myself.
Eventually that bed will remember my name.
The bed with the disheveled sheet and broken memories, will allow me to hold you as I once did.
It will be quiet again one day,
And all will be safe.