I'm learning to play the harp.
To punish my fingers for making the sky crack it's knuckles.
Bending love like a tiny offering to the broken.
Sneaking in their ears & whispering hope.
Not while they're sleeping but wide awake eyes shut.
Sweet tears are made for baking. Patience is preheating & love is the icing I will cover you with.
This world did not make us.
So when the worlds fire approaches let us stand as the 3hebrew boys did.
If he allows it to touch us it is only to bake us beautiful.