You are a guitar
and its woodsy scent
when it has never been played.
You are the forest
as background to a storm,
car windows down
and no sound but the glass
cutting the wind in half
and the pounding in our chests.
You are summer at 3am
when sleep is unnecessary
and the stars are most vulnerable.
You are the scent
of
cedar
and rain
and home.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
You are a guitar
and its woodsy scent
when it has never been played.
You are the forest
as background to a storm,
car windows down
and no sound but the glass
cutting the wind in half
and the pounding in our chests.
You are summer at 3am
when sleep is unnecessary
and the stars are most vulnerable.
You are the scent
of
cedar
and rain
and home.
