And I know,
I’ll burn these words one day.
Just as they burned inside me,
As I wrote.
Your intent is always there,
But your promises are blown away by the wind,
To join the we’ll-do-it-soon’s,
And when your empty words pierce my heart,
I trailed my fingers through your thoughts,
And let them drip onto my page.
Each splash a word filled with you.
When I get goosebumps,
As my body unexpectedly tingles,
And I know somewhere,
Your thoughts have brushed up against my skin.
Be the thread that she can follow,
Tangles and all.
Let her weave you amongst her words,
So that when you loose each other,
She can still find her way back.
She is a storm that runs,
Twisting amongst life’s threads.
A beat to match your heart.
Has the power to destroy,
But if you let go of fear,
You’ll see the calm,
That lifts you up and helps you fly.
She is the freedom,
To be yourself.
(a yellow peace rose to symbolise friendship)
Different languages to describe,
Our different worlds.
But somewhere in the overlap,
As they brush together,
We find a way,
To see and hear each other.
And it’s always beautiful expansion,
Of life and world.
A song about a serpent,
That made her dream about the sea.
Of slipping out her dress,
And letting the waves,
Slowly move up her body,
Until the water,
Lifts her feet from the sand,
And she became part of the ocean.
Because only an ocean could ever own her.
She wrote with smoky eyes and hip swaying words,
The kind you find after dark,
When the shadows,
Encourage the wild.
And as he read them,
He’d let them swallow him,