Unrestricted romances repeatedly consume the barren space between my sternum and spine.
A void that formed with the absence of your shores.
In its place you left no lake.
But instead, the sand that once met your waters is now a desert with dunes that were created with the whistle of the wind. The scorching sun with cloudless sky's, won't allow the flings to blossom into petals glowing with vivid colors, and aromas that cause your eyes to close, and breath to become deeper.
Artificial stems are dug into the ground with hopeless faith. I now have a garden of tulips
and roses
And
daisy and
morning glories.
With a white picket fence to maintain a level of structure in this lifeless terrain.
I'll carry pales of water to try and quench the sand and allow the elements at hand to create rocks. From those rocks moss will grow and with the passing of time succulent greens will arise.
Tainted views that evolved from our father's need to place explanation of the moon shining solely at night, and birds chirping at the break of dawn, contradict my insight of what is required to fill my barren landscape.