my thoughts drift away
to the soft brown hues
of your hair beneath sunlight,
times
when your best friend
was down the hall to the right,
and those
nights
full of laughter
as campfire sparks
singed my hair, secret
moments
where the rumble of your voice
sung in my ear and
your intoxicated bedroom eyes-
I touch your scar and remember
not all scars can be seen, but
the beat of your heart
against my bare skin reminds me
we are not broken souls beneath
twilight stars, but
one soul beating with a singular heart
awaiting the oncoming dawn