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Aug 2014
I'm terrible at sewing thoughts
into patterns and ordered gardens of
emotions blossoming in perfect rhythm
the way you always stitched your love
into every word
lines on a warm palm traced perfectly

But I give you my vines, my wreckless
love streaming boundlessly, splashing
all over what I meant to say
forming tendrils of clear water on stone
and wildflowers where they shouldn't have grown

You taught me that it was beautiful
even when I didn't mean it to be
such a mess but you built a home there
laid me down in the wild meadow of my soul
until it wasn't such a mess anymore
Gone some days, and the ache never hurts more
than right before it starts but
you always hold me a little longer than it takes
to stop crying and your eyes
light up and the room with golden dust,
filled with magic and meteor showers
and a hope in your heart that fills mine back up

I never thought anyone would take
this broken cup and pour such
rich sweetness into me
drops of life that I cherish when I crumble
the laughter through tears
in the middle of the night when
there are too many clothes on the floor
and too many pieces of myself on the floor
but you're singing like it's a Sunday afternoon
in a silly voice that makes the tears come faster because
how could you love me so unconditionally I can't
fathom how I could be worth a fraction
of such an ocean of love, but you teach me
with time and the stillness of your presence
and I start to believe in waves
that will carry me home
for my Dragon
Written by
   Connor Ruther
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