In the corners of music and in spaces between punctuations of others' stories I search and imagine for the substance of your love, arriving for me.
The glory of its shadow, from the achievements of my imagination, lights up my gently, quivering heart.
The solidity of it filters through my porous mind, and surprises it there.
It's giant, yet lands without a sound, glimmering, gently, quietly.
Like the sound of a breeze passing though airy lashes of soft, gazing eyes.
I cannot forget this warmth. It holds every one of the pores of my body, and celebrates each with a gentle, feather-like mini firework.
I hold my dreams open
All the weight of its out-pouring past content feels less dense than your gaze in my direction,
With your whole permanent existence blessing and loving the whole of my permanent existence.
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 10:51 AM UTC
In the corners of music and in spaces between punctuations of others' stories I search and imagine for the substance of your love, arriving for me.
The glory of its shadow, from the achievements of my imagination, lights up my gently, quivering heart.
The solidity of it filters through my porous mind, and surprises it there.
It's giant, yet lands without a sound, glimmering, gently, quietly.
Like the sound of a breeze passing though airy lashes of soft, gazing eyes.
I cannot forget this warmth. It holds every one of the pores of my body, and celebrates each with a gentle, feather-like mini firework.
I hold my dreams open
All the weight of its out-pouring past content feels less dense than your gaze in my direction,
With your whole permanent existence blessing and loving the whole of my permanent existence.