My thought’s nature is so chain-free; though when
it comes to missing links of love [I’m so incomplete]
A love for you, locked by the links we’ve made; we are
slaves to each other, and I know it sounds shameless in its
message relayed; still from the sound of your voice, there’s
something in the air- with the pauses in between conversations;
All the invitation of the opportunity to kiss each other, to clear
out that awkward air

Before birth and afterwards, I seem passionate over your touch
as like a youth- waiting to take your hand and speak for us
whenever the ask if we’re in love. And in the soil, I’ve buried my heart,
still feelings of it are so light, that they all grow out with delight
Our laughter spreads across the land of a bedspread, and their little
giggles in between, are like daisies sticking out on the lawn
So, if we bury all our memories in the wrinkled sheets-
our beds are our graves; that could remember far better, with their
memory foam mattress [Darling, I will cover you]