tip tap
pit pat
like the feeling of your fingers drumming on the back of my hand.
tears against the window cry for my love for you.
and your dark gold haystack sifts through my fingers like spun gold
while i drink the rainbow from your lips.
storm is over, though i’m still cold.
but your warmth is like rays of sun comforting the damp and pelted grass.
white powder pulsating through my body, ridding me of the darkness
but it took away the colour too.
yet there you were, stood in front of me, bright, burning orange aura.
it almost startled me to look at you. i had to take my eyes off you for i was afraid you’d burn holes in my soul, afraid you would see through my protective facade.
yet you persisted and found your way into the deepest part of me where the sun couldn’t shine and sound moved slow, wading through the thick blue waters.
and you taught me how to breathe.
and you taught me how to swim.
and now i look at you with your lopsided smile and emerald eyes.
and i wonder - what did i do to be so fortunate as to call you mine ?