Standing O
1 min readApr 20, 2017
Return to me; the indigo veil falls.
Chill permeates this heart:
The space carved out for you.
With baited breath, I stretch my arms:
A silent plea for your presence.
Return to me; the velvet curtain hangs low.
A poet’s ramblings & a writer’s pipe-dreams; this is what my world is made of.