Sancturari

She fell in love deeply when he planted seeds in his backyard that grew into white flowers and pumpkins. He used the thyme that later grew and added it to our soup.

She fell in love with his language

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Style is the dress of thought

— the ancients said

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Heard your song talking about how you finally belong

I’m happy that I did my best job to drive you towards your true potential even though it was achieved after I left your side

I want to drink a lot of wine

& push you in a dark room with a hint of reluctance because at first I’ll end up baring my secrets to you.

Only to drown in your eyes when you look at me in silence.

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I can’t create an identity by erasing the words of yesterday or forgetting memories from those who have left.

Those days and small instances of connection with others made me who I am and if I shunne

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The air whispers all I need to know about this coldness that suddenly reached the west, that it reached far

into my chest.

Searching for warmth, love, and light, but we don’t always get what we want

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You can hear the echo of my heart pounding through doors

clear of what I want

or not a sound at all,

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This mourning air tastes like bitter melancholy.

When will I taste the honey ?

To soothe my throat,

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My language is

tangled with yours in the dead of night

here I’ve granted you to see me in a new light.

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Pretty eyes that are dark brown like an oak tree.

Tall like one too towering over me.

He smells like pine, god he’s all the trees combined.

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