A spirit so broken

that it found in your shards smooth edges

in your embracing fingers relief from

the vicious brushstrokes of the hollowness inside me

I am in a trance, hollowness filled by the octaves of the

serene silk that your vocal cords produce.

in a nook somewhere between a childhood wound and a smiling future

your name is being etched, sealed in by every pat on my hand to comfort me

from oncoming rage, or protective passion.

Settled into your aura, i am water you may tread in to learn to swim,

Settle into my aura, i promise I will guide you through the deep end.

you are a Siren, but the only danger is never hearing your voice again,

so I am laying my sails aside, as I dock a heavy heart on your shores,

and settle my ship,

weather-worn and weighty without you, my island

my island, I have worn your smile as my weather, you make me weightless

but when are worn under the weather, my island, I shall be the weight to anchor you

i sent out doves to find out which words draw your smile out the farthest

they came back telling me those words are an ethereal secret, available to celestial bodies only

trapped in the streaks of the sunset, only to be unearthed by my continuing tries to find earthly means to them.

it seems as though i’ll spend more hours dovetailing between delighting in holding your face

and learning how to make it even more radiant,

a natural miracle only to be missed by those who eyes aren’t ready for light.

you ask me what helps me sleep at night,

the darkness does, i sleep without lights,

so days it will be dark, but we will still find rest.

what I’m finding is that

your fluorescence helps me sleep at night, even better however.

my sleep, bookended by good mornings and good nights,

offers me solace now instead of escape only,

offers me time travel through useless hours,

writing our stories feels right

writing us feels right

aside the words on the canvas

illustrated by irradiance of your eyes’ irises,

met by the warmth of your carnation blush

i will leave lilies that remind us of how beautiful our story will always be

i will stand in front of the canvas, beautiful with both of us in it and in front of it

squeeze your fingers between me, bring your head onto my shoulder and make sure that like the canvas

we are us,

there,

pressed together,

warm.