tenderly as if it was a fragile newborn.
She cradles it, and gasps at a paragraph.
You draw closer, inching towards for a kiss and she gives it to you.
Albeit distracted, drunk in text and mentally stimulated from reading.
She reaches out for a pen. It doesn't matter which.
She needs to pen her thoughts and seal them from waltzing away.
Nothing else matters. This is a vacuum of space no amount of coaxing can trespass.
She falls asleep with a book huddled at her bedside, her hand on your chest.
Soft, gentle breathing brushing the hair down your neck.
She is yours now.
Stay a little while.
- Audrey L.
No comments:
Post a Comment