How late is the day
when you come to me?
I wake from dreams
to dream
of you.
How darkly burns fire
when you whisper my name?
I reach from the world
to a world
with you.
How sweet is salt
when I taste your skin?
You take me from myself
to myself
in you.
You and Me, in 55 Words
I have died to myself
and I live for you.
Rumi
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Saturday, March 10, 2018
Untitled (Written)
In the face
of these conflicting realities
Time melts to nothing –
dull lamplight
stutters in empty rooms –
your presence
lingers
closer than shadows
and I cannot dismiss
what has already been written –
no turning back the page
or relinquishing
the task –
no point in serenity
if even one shred
of you turns away
or fades –
For The Friday 55 hosted by Hedgewitch
of these conflicting realities
Time melts to nothing –
dull lamplight
stutters in empty rooms –
your presence
lingers
closer than shadows
and I cannot dismiss
what has already been written –
no turning back the page
or relinquishing
the task –
no point in serenity
if even one shred
of you turns away
or fades –
For The Friday 55 hosted by Hedgewitch
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