Noise like static and a never-ending rush of squelching and alarm bells sounding,
Insistent on shredding my sanity and tearing the confidence from my core
But the warmth you carry with you invites itself into me
And makes me whole again.

There are 3 lights on my ceiling fan,
None of which do I turn on for a majority of the time I spend staring at it,
I dont mind the darkness anymore.
It isn't for the lumination that I find myself engrossed,
It's the constance, the momentum that I admire,
That sets my head spinning
Wishing
my only job was to keep going.

My words swirl like sparklers in the night,
Thoughts appearing in a blaze of fire
Only to trail away as the cold closes in.
And what once dazzled like glitter in the air
Is encapsulated in only the memory of something burnt.

There's a lock of grass in my pocket and clusters of stars behind my ears.
The warmth in my heart remains kindled by the guiding moon,
While I drink the air given to me -
A gift I wish not to squander.
The music of the trees and the cleansing from the river
Are the reminders I wear around my neck
So that I may one day earn the grace to be here.

Ice-cold beer
Late nights
And your smile -
The things I cannot resist.

The summer sun
A heavy sweater
And the touch of your hand -
The things that make me melt.

Your voice, my favorite song -
Your breath, the blanket that's kept me warm -
Your eyes -
The only stars I need to see.

I heard Love speak his own name, and the way
It sounded as it slid from his lips
Made my heart dance to steps I don't remember learning.

Love played me a record,
The music his heart beats to
While he whispered my name, and I don't think
I've ever heard more beautiful lyrics.

I wrote Love a song  -
He kept time and his eyes on mine
As my heart sang out
And we danced our thanks beneath the stars.

I couldn't tell you the last time someone drooled a promise,
And actually followed through with those hungry eyes.