To remember words written and caressed in whispers
sincerely touched within memory
holds me captive,
lost willingly in thought.
Only to see an image,
and feel my strength drained,
smile forth my essence,
and beg me to listen of winters sprout
and of mid day slumber.
Guide my eyes to see with open mindedness,
and sit beside yourself and I,
as a third party with curious eyes and whispers.
Only then you'd see my thoughts of you,
bare and rare in simplicity.
I'd count on your with my fears,
hopes,
and my frail,
lean,
soft thoughts.
And soon enough,
I'd love to be considered as something secure but
rarely ever understood.
As you allowed it,
I'd fill the chest lost in breaths.
I'd replay the times I laughed and felt alive,
enclosed in a snow globe.
You'd be the falling snow enclosed with me,
always there to be there.
We'd never grow with age.
I'd remain there.